


Paved with Sorrow

by LateOwlRambles



Category: Mortal Kombat (Video Games), Mortal Kombat - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And About Half of Them are Socially Awkward, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Canon-Typical Violence, Everyone Has Issues, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Johnny Has No Sense of Tact Whatsoever, Kitana is a Sweetheart, Liu Kang is a Dork, Minor Original Character(s), POV Alternating, POV Multiple, Raiden is a Snarky Bastard, Romance, Sonya Swears A Lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-08-15 18:41:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 88,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8068480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LateOwlRambles/pseuds/LateOwlRambles
Summary: The time has come for the Tournament, and for Earth’s last chance of eluding Outworld’s grasp. Many will fight, few will survive – all that matters is that they win. But, what happens when simply winning the tournament isn’t enough? Failures lead to success and good intentions lead to hell; they should have realized the road to victory would demand a high price…
This fic is currently stuck in hibernation.





	1. If Only You Knew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically the prologue, only I won't call it a prologue because prologues are awful. The action starts in chapter 2, and takes off in chapter 3.

**Chapter 1 - If Only You Knew, or**

**The Savior And The Insufficient**

 

Inside his aesthetically designed mansion – with pillars of marble, walls of glass, and floors of glistening black stone, located on the whitest beach of Malibu’s coast – Johnny Cage was irritably sauntering back and forth in his living room. With his cellphone in one hand, and the latest copy of _Entertainment Always_ with the review page up in the other, he read aloud.

“’…but while the cinematography might be up to par, the fact still stands that the direction, writing, and acting above all most definitely is not, thus making _Ninja Mime_ nothing more than another generic installment in Johnny Cage’s ever-growing line of failures…’ Ugh, I hate that guy!”

Crumpling the magazine into a ball with his free hand, Johnny forcefully hurled it across the room before falling back, draping himself on the white leather sofa.

“What was he expecting? I played a _mime!_ The overacting was on purpose! If you’re not supposed to talk, you have to let your body language speak for you.”

“Relax, Johnny,” the slightly exasperated woman said on the other end of the line. “It doesn’t matter what the critics think, as long as the fans like it. Remember, it brought in over $900 million at the box office.”

“Yeah, but…” Johnny heaved a sigh. “What if it changes? What if they tire of me, start to think I’m just a buffoon capable of hitting other dudes in the face? What then, Abby?”

Abby drew a breath to speak, but was cut short before she could utter a single word when Johnny made another outburst.

“I mean, there are already some who’ve lost faith in me! They think I’m not even doing my own stunts! The one thing that even the critics thought was a redeeming factor!”

“No one says your stunts are faked, Johnny.”

“Yes they do! Lots of ‘em!”

“How do you know?”

Johnny hesitated for a moment. After a split second, he heard a tired sigh on the other end.

“Johnny… Have you been self-googling again?”

“Hey, if your name was Johnny Cage, you would too! It’s not like I’m the only one!”

“Dammit, Johnny…” Abby groaned. “Look: I have a few new scripts ready for you. I’ll send them over and let you have a read, and then you’ll get back to me tomorrow. Okay?”

“Do any of them include a big dramatic scene of utmost drama that really pushes me and my abilities to the limit?” Johnny asked dully.

A long, drawn-out pause followed his question. He could picture Abby in front of him, rolling her eyes and trying to hold in yet another sigh.

“Just call me when you’ve read them all,” she said and hung up before he could retort.

Grumbling, Johnny leaned his head back against the armrest and laid one arm over his eyes to block out the sun that leaked in through the glass doors to the terrace. Celebrities fell every day. He’d been lucky enough to stay afloat and relevant for the past decade; perhaps it was his time now. But it couldn’t! He was still among the big boys, releasing about three movies a year! Maybe that was the problem. _Maybe_ he needed to slow down for a while. Work on something smaller. Help an indie project get off the ground by producing, or writing something himself. He’d have to hire a screenwriter to do the script, but the story could be _his own_ , and then-

He was pulled out of his musings when the phone, still in his hand, rang again. Probably Abby. She’d either forgot to tell him something, or she wanted to make sure he was reading the scripts she’d most likely sent at least five minutes ago.

“Mr. Cage.”

Ooookay, _that_ was positively _not_ Abby, unless she’d spontaneously contracted laryngitis, or swallowed a batch of testosterone pills, or… something.

“Yeah,” Johnny said as he removed the arm from his eyes, causing them to blink rapidly while adjusting to the fading, but still bright, sunlight. “Who is this?”

“Oh, well, I suppose a _fan_ would be an appropriate response, Mr. Cage,” the man on the other end said.

“Uh huh… And how did you get this number?”

“It was quite easy. You just need to have the right contacts. But enough of that. I have long admired your fighting prowess, Mr. Cage. All of it is very impressive.”

“Why, thank y-”

“I’d go so far as to say it’s what makes your movies.”

The man’s last sentence hit him square in the stomach. The increasing paranoia rushed out of him the way the air does in a deflating balloon, along with pretty much every other of the day’s emotions.

Except maybe “misery”.

“Thanks…” he muttered.

“Is this a bad time, Mr. Cage?” the man asked. “Is something the matter? You sound upset.”

“Oh, no! No, no. Everything’s fine, thanks.”

“I came across a review of _Ninja Mime_ in today’s issue of _Entertainment Always_ ,” the man said. “It wasn’t very positive. Is that what’s bothering you?”

Johnny hastily got into a sitting position. He looked at his own crumpled copy at the far end of the room, then turned to the large windows with the beach below the terrace. Was this guy… watching?

No, that wasn’t possible. The alarms would have gone off the instant someone entered the area, and Bo would have seen it on the security cameras. Even so, for his own peace of mind…

“Were there?” he asked nonchalantly whilst he got up with the phone squeezed between his ear and his shoulder. In a hurry, he closed the curtains, lowered the window blinds, and made sure the terrace door was locked. “I haven’t read today’s _EA_ , so…”

“I see,” the man said. “They called it generic and a failure. Which is a shame since it’s so much more than that!”

“Oh yeah?”

Goddamn it, why did blinds always have to be difficult at times like this?

“Yes. But the people can’t seem to grasp it. And it’s partially your fault, Mr. Cage.”

“Is it?”

“Because you so rarely live up to your full potential. In order for the world to take you seriously Mr. Cage, you must to prove that you _deserve_ to be taken seriously!”

Johnny halted his movement. Taking a moment to stare out at the beach, the sea, the setting sun, he released the rope of the untangled blind. It fell down into place with a loud rattle.

“Oh yeah? And I’m sure you have a solution for how I’m supposed to do _that too_ , don’t you?”

The man hummed good-humoredly.

“Tell me, Mr. Cage; have you ever heard of a small gathering called _Mortal Kombat_ …?”

* * *

Tundra was less than five kilometers away from Lin Kuei headquarters when he suddenly felt the sensation of being followed wash over him, together with the wind.

Like many times before, he had chosen to take a path through the forest rather than the main road – if only so he would have a few more minutes of silence to clear his head and enjoy the fresh air. He’d still arrive relatively on time, so it didn’t matter much.

Slowing his pace, he concentrated on his surroundings. There was something nearby, he just knew it, but couldn’t determine where.

The downwind was gentle when it brushed against his back. Quietly, it rustled the tree crowns, the tall grass… and brought the sound of the twig snapping in half unexpectedly close.

Tundra whirled in the direction of the noise, arms up and ready to freeze-blast if necessary. He stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of a tall man with tattered clothes and a long braid, holding his hands up in a placating gesture.

“Please forgive me,” he said, then pulled the scarf from his face. “I wasn’t my intention to startle you.”

At first glance, Tundra had thought it was Tomas, somehow having managed to sneak out to either meet him or to stage a surprise attack, but a closer examination made him feel ridiculous for thinking so. This man was too tall, his hair wasn’t silver but pure white, and his eyes were brown and too… soft.

“Not at all,” Tundra said, relaxing his stance a little. “I just… didn’t expect anyone else out here.”

The man smiled.

“No. Few would find purpose in traveling so far out into nowhere.”

Tundra nodded, uncertain of what to say next. He regarded the man’s threadbare robe, wondering what he was possibly hoping to find in the forest. Did he live here? Or was his appearance just acting as a distraction from his true goal?

“Do you… Do you need money or food?” he asked, grasping at whatever straws he could find, while letting sharp ice discreetly form in his palm. He wasn’t interested in killing a simple beggar, but…

The man laughed amiably.

“Oh, no, no. But I would be happy with some company,” he said and walked over to a large tree, seating himself on one of the protruding roots. He patted the root to his left. After warily hanging back for a moment, Tundra surprised himself by following suit and sinking down next to him.

He didn’t know what to do.

The man pulled out two red apples from his robe, gave one to Tundra, and bit into the other. It was unreal. The whole situation was. No one had ever spotted him while on the way to or from a mission; even if it had happened, the person hadn’t thought to approach him. Why would anyone wish to come within the reach of a Lin Kuei assassin? To put them down, was the only reason Tundra knew, but that wasn’t right. This man wasn’t out to kill him; he could just feel it. And that was extremely odd.

Nothing like this had ever happened before and he didn’t know what to do.

Tundra peeked up at the man from the corner of his eye. He was unusually… _pretty_ for a man. Not just the hair and the eyes, but his face was slim and the skin almost inhumanly smooth. Truthfully, if it not for his voice, Tundra most likely would have mistaken him for a woman.

The man sighed contentedly, then looked at Tundra.

“Are you familiar with Mortal Kombat?”

“Yes,” Tundra said.

The man’s eyes widened in surprise.

“You are? The Lin Kuei is sending a representative?”

“Yes, my brother is-”

Tundra immediately cut himself off. What was he doing? Discussing private affairs with a stranger in the woods? _Had he lost his mind_?

But it was something about the stranger; he seemed honorable and trustworthy. When he asked, Tundra had _wanted_ to answer honestly.

Staring out into thin air, the man nodded pensively. He glimpsed down at Tundra.

“Your brother, you say… But not you? You strike me as someone powerful.”

Tundra lowered his gaze to the ground, to the apple he had begun rolling between his palms, whilst he bit the inside of his cheek.

“My brother is stronger,” he mumbled.

“I see.”

The man didn’t attempt any conversation after that point; they sat silently for several minutes in the windless clearing. Then the man chuckled as he stood up.

“Goodness, I’m keeping you, am I not?”

Tundra blinked perplexedly at the man, before remembering himself. The mission! He needed to report in to the masters, and soon! Damn it!

“Yes,” he said as he jumped to his feet and started to leave. “I have to go.”

He didn’t wait for the stranger to answer, having gotten meters away when the man called out his goodbye.

“You have my apologies. And my best wishes, Kuai Liang.”

The sharp gale hit Tundra in the face. He stiffened and came to a standstill.

“How do you know my-”

He turned around, but the man had vanished. He spun in one place, spying up and behind the trees, but saw nothing. He felt nothing either. Despite telling himself how unlikely it was, in the back of his head he knew the ragged stranger was long gone.

Tundra’s skin crawled.

He looked down on the apple still in his hand, now completely frozen solid. Releasing the ice-covered fruit to the ground, he hurried back to headquarters.

* * *

Officer David Arenas was no stranger to dealing with intimidating women; once upon a time, it was the only kind of woman he ever came upon. However, none of the dames that he met during his “career” compared to this one. She was tall, fit, and she would have looked like an angel sent straight from heaven if not for the frown that gave the impression of being permanently etched onto her face.

Oh, and she could probably kill him in less than half a minute.

“There must be something else!” she said. Her delivery carried through the entire office. David guessed that she didn’t notice the way she was shouting. “I don’t care what but it has to be… _something!_ ”

“I’m very sorry, ma’am,” he said and strained the corners of his lips upwards. “But I have already told you everything I know. I assure you, if I remember anything else, you will be the first ones I’ll let know.”

Her eyes narrowed somehow even more than previously. She gritted her teeth. Two of her fingers twitched before her fist clenched, as if she was fighting the urge to grab something pointy and jam it into his neck.

In fact, that was pretty much _exactly_ what she wanted to do. He couldn’t blame her.

“Well then!” she barked. “Thank you for your patience, _officer_.”

She didn’t give David time to reply, instead turning abruptly and stomping out the door. The building was oddly quiet the first few seconds after she left.

David emitted a loud groan. He allowed his head to fall forward and land on his desk with a thud.

“That went well,” he said, his voice a muffled sound.

“It’s nothing personal. She’s always like that,” the man by the desk next to David’s said without taking his eyes off the gun he was cleaning.

“Maybe, but…” David looked at his colleague. “I don’t know. I guess I feel kind of useless.”

It wasn’t true. Or, it wasn’t the whole truth, at least. He did feel useless, but more than that, he felt like a monster. Always, when he saw her or just someone tall and blonde, even if they weren’t female. And it was all his own fault.

“You’re not useless.”

“Well, okay, but I _feel_ like I should-”

“When you’re useless, I’ll let you know.”

David pressed his lips tightly together and glared at his partner. Not that it mattered, since the man hadn’t taken his eyes of his weapon during the entire exchange, but still. It’s the thought that counts.

“Gee. _Thanks._ ”

“No problem.”

He eyed the magazine closely, flicked away an invisible speck of dust, and put it along with the gun away in the top shelf drawer. After what had perhaps been hours, he spared his partner a quick look from the corner of his eye.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it, Arenas,” he said. “You’ve done your part. There’s no point in dwelling in the past when you can live in the present.”

David let the words sink in as he sat up. He’d been told this so many times, by _so_ many people. He didn’t believe it, and he never would, because it just wasn’t true. But, all the same, there was something comforting about the fact that other people believed it, and were willing to try and convince him over and over again.

“I guess. Maybe.” David looked over at his friend, who’d already gone on to continue working and was diligently shuffling through the paperwork on his desk.

“Hey, Stryker.”

“Hmm?”

“Thanks.”

* * *

Sonya Blade was _not_ having a good day.

The latest lead on the Black Dragon had turned out to be a load of unhelpful bullshit, she wasn’t needed anywhere else at the office right now, and this little visit to Mr. “I’m-Totally-Reformed-Now, Honest!” had been a complete waste of time.

The motorcycle’s engine revved when she started it, causing a number of passerby to jump in surprise. One old lady in particular gave her a nasty look, but Sonya couldn’t find the energy to glare back.

After a ride back that was way too short, she burst into Jax’s office, not caring whether she disturbed him.

“Nothing!” she declared.

“I know,” he said without looking up from his computer. “I interrogated Mr. Arenas myself, remember? You need to stop harassing that poor man.”

Sonya scoffed loudly. Jax glanced up at her, a serious expression on his face.

“I mean it, Blade. Besides, I thought I gave you today off.”

She scoffed again. Jax sighed.

“You’re of no use to me if you’ve burned yourself out. You should take advantage of this and rest-”

“I’ll rest when Kano is behind bars! Or better: in the electric chair!”

Jax opened his mouth to speak when the phone’s ringing cut him off. His eyes darted between it and Sonya, before he pointed at her and picked up the receiver at the same time.

“You’ll stay right there,” he said. She crossed her arms and parked herself on the edge of Jax’s desk. Perhaps he would be so exasperated with her that he’d actually give her something to do after the lecture. But, knowing Jax, if he wanted to punish her it’d probably be by giving her more vacation. Damn it.

“…the Black Dragon, you say?”

Sonya immediately snapped back to reality, almost knocking herself off the desk when spun around to look at Jax. She mouthed “ _Black Dragon?_ ” to him, simply to make sure it wasn’t simply her imagination. He nodded calmly in response.

“Sir, you do realize this is not the place you call when having a- Alright, I see. An island, huh?”

Jax reached for his notepad and began jotting down what had to be coordinates.

“Well, thank you, sir. We’ll dig into this as soon as we can. Yes. Of course. Thank you.”

Running one hand down his face, Jax put the phone in its cradle and held up the page with the coordinates on it. He stared at it fleetingly; then shifted his gaze to Sonya.

“Well?!” she asked, leaning so much forward so that she nearly draped herself over the table. “Do we have something?”

“Not sure…” Jax said. “It was a strange sounding fellow. Didn’t give a real answer how he got my number, and then he stressed several times how important it is that we’re prepared to act by Tuesday next week. Apparently that’s when the ‘operation’ – what kind he didn’t clarify either, by the way – would take place.”

Sonya leaned back whilst grinding her teeth. Yeah, that didn’t sound promising. In the least worst-case scenario, it could be an incredibly elaborate prank. In the worst worst-case scenario, it could be a trap. She didn’t put it past Kano to do either of the two just fuck with them, the sociopathic bastard. But, in the best-case scenario and it was _neither_ …

“We should investigate further before deciding,” she said. “Not make any assumptions.”

Jax peered up at her. There was a small smile playing upon his lips.

“True,” he said. “First and foremost, I’ll have someone confirm that this island does exist-”

“I’ll do it!” she said as she snatched the piece of paper from him, jumped off the desk, and sprinted out of the office.

“Blade!” he shouted after her. “You’re supposed to be resting!”

“I’ll do that afterwards!”

* * *

The last of Lawrence Thawley’s classes for the day had ended seconds ago. Students were flooding out of the seminar, their footsteps and dialogues blending together into a buzzing murmur. The professor stood straight as he assembled his documents and acknowledged his pupils when they told him goodbye. It was only after the last one had left that he allowed himself to slump against the desk. He began massaging his temples with a tired groan. Not too long ago he’d heard a teaching assistant mention something called “Thursday fatigue”. He guessed that was what he felt at the present, despite the fact that today was merely Monday.

Jesus Christ, this was going to be a long-

“Professor?”

Lawrence startled at the sound and quickly looked up. Three of the students turned out to have lingered right outside the classroom, now standing cluttered in the doorway. Lawrence cursed himself for not noticing them. He _should_ have heard them.

“Ah, yes? Did you forget something?”

All three girls shook their heads. The one who spoke before – Eleanor was her name – boldly stepped forward with the other two trailing behind.

“No, we were…” She stopped in front of the desk, clasping her hands in front of her and bowing her head sheepishly. “We’re unsure about a few things concerning the course… Do you think you could help, professor?”

“It’s just a few questions!” the one to the right – Amanda – quickly interjected. Jenny, the last one, only giggled.

Lawrence let out an internal scream, and smiled kindly at them.

“Of course. It’s what I’m here for, after all. How can I help you?”

Amanda and Jenny broke out into a chorus of thank-yous and some more giggling, which Eleanor almost instantly quelled with a raise of her hands.

“Good!” she said with a beam. “Firstly, it’s what you said earlier today…”

As they talked, Lawrence had to ask himself what he’d done to deserve this. Their questions were incredibly basic – questions these girls, whom he knew were all very clever, should know the answer to already. Either they had collectively been struck with a bad case of amnesia, or they were deliberately trying to obfuscate their knowledge for some reason. Considering how compulsively Jenny kept playing with her locks and tittered more than she spoke, how Amanda crossed her arms beneath her chest so that her cleavage grew significantly, and how, with each question, Eleanor leaned in a little bit closer to flutter her lashes at him, Lawrence could guess the reason quite easily.

Once again, what had he done? And which god should he pray to in order to make it stop?

“Lawrence!”

Four heads spun in the direction of the entrance. A tall man in a smart, light-gray suit and long, white hair had arrived (and Lawrence cursed once more for not noticing _him_ either). After five rapid strides and no warning, he embraced Lawrence, hoisting the similarly quite tall professor off the ground while doing it.

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” he asked.

“Well, we-” Lawrence said as he struggled to be released.

“It’s just been so long and I just really wanted to see you!” the man cut him off, squeezing just a little bit harder. “You girls know how it’s like, right?” He winked at the students.

All three seemed to have become dumbstruck by his sudden presence, gaping at him with wide eyes. Then Eleanor gathered herself with a nervous, and rather shrill, laughter.

“Sure we do,” she said, grabbing her friends by their wrists as she began to leave. “We’re pretty much done here, so we’ll leave you guys to… catch up, I guess.”

They said goodbye one last time – hopefully – and left in a hurry whilst whispering to each other. Raiden’s now pupil-less eyes followed them until they were fully departed, then turned to Lawrence with a grin.

“Well. They were pretty hot,” he said as he put the historian down on the ground.

“Be quiet,” Lawrence muttered.

“I wonder, though, what were they expecting? A passionate orgy on the top of your-”

“Is there a _reason_ for you to be here, Raiden?”

Wearing a maddening smirk, Raiden tsked and wagged his finger at him.

“There is a reason for _everything_ I do. You should know that, Lawrence.”

Lawrence grumbled to himself and went on organizing his papers and books like he had done before the first interruption, while he waited for Raiden to continue talking. Raiden leaned against the wall behind them, resting his heavy gaze on Lawrence’s back.

“It’s time,” was all he said. Lawrence froze where he stood. His heart quickened its pace and his mouth dried up as he processed the words. He inhaled deeply.

“At last,” he said with an almost completely steady voice. “Where, and when?”

“An island, where someone uninvited won’t be able to reach us, eight days from now.”

Cocking his head to the side, Raiden observed him with narrowed eyes.

“Will Nightwolf be ready?” he asked. Lawrence straightened himself and lifted his chin to look the Thunder God directly in the eye.

“I have been ready for twenty years, Haokah.”

Raiden snickered at the memory; despite himself, Lawrence tugged his lips into something genuine as well.

“But what about you?” he said. “Have you found enough easily persuaded people to do your bidding?”

“Lawrence!” Raiden cheerfully chided him. “I can’t believe you’re asking me something so preposterous! Of course I have gathered enough fighters!”

A small, self-satisfied simper settled upon his lips.

“And some of them appear to be _very promising!_ ”

* * *

In one of the yards belonging to the Shaolin Monastery in China’s Henan province, the young monk practicing his forms suddenly stopped to sneeze.


	2. Several Beautiful Beginnings

**Chapter 2 - Several Beautiful Beginnings, or**

**Thrice An Eye To Hang By**

 

For a place where, every five decades, dozens of fighters from dozens of different realms and cultures came to either prevent or cause the destruction of a world by participating in brutal death matches, Shang Tsung’s Island was fairly pleasant.

The temperature was enjoyably warm; not scorching or humid. The beach where they arrived had fine, smooth sand. The fauna was luscious and varied. It was a shame, in Liu Kang’s opinion, that they would have to degrade this peaceful beauty with their presence. On the way to the opening ceremony, he’d shared his thoughts with Lord Raiden, who straightaway made it clear that so long as the tournament was held in Earthrealm, he didn’t really care. Although Kang would have to agree, the response still made him feel a bit dejected. The god must have noticed, for he promptly added that it _was_ a shame, but a necessary evil nonetheless.

As the contestants slowly gathered around the arena by the courtyard, the host with his entourage entered the stage on the opposite side. Kang’s eyes immediately landed on one of the young women.

She was dressed in a sky blue halter-neck dress with a short skirt, simple except for the light patterns in silver thread, paired with detached sleeves that left her upper arms bare. The outfit was completed by a matching veil. Despite half of her face being obscured, one could not deny her loveliness: delicate features accompanied by a slender frame; a fair complexion contrasted by a mane of inky locks. Her posture was graceful and dignified, causing her to appear unquestionably regal.

Completely transfixed, Kang didn’t see that Raiden had stopped walking; he was roused out of his reverie when he collided with the Thunder God’s back.

“What are you doing?” Raiden asked in an irritated tone as he twirled around.

“Sorry, I was just…” Kang trailed off whilst looking at the stage. “Who is she?” he asked.

“Who?”

“Her! In the blue dress!”

“Oh. Her. That’s Kitana, Crown Princess of Outworld,” Raiden said.

“She’s beautiful…”

“She’s also the enemy.”

“Do you think she’ll be fighting…?”

“…are you in heat?”

Realizing what he’d said, Kang’s cheeks flushed. He promptly lowered his gaze.

“No!” he said. “I’m just… analyzing enemy forces!”

Raiden snorted.

“Mmhmm. Right,” he said, clearly unconvinced. “Well, whatever. As long as you keep it outside the arena. You’ll need your concentration when you’re fighting.”

Kang grunted in response, face still red and eyes stubbornly glued to his feet. Not until he could confirm that Raiden’s attentions were set elsewhere did he dare look up again.

Kitana. It sounded familiar. Quickly he remembered that he’d heard he name before, when Raiden briefed him on Outworld and its key people a few weeks prior. So that was Shao Kahn’s daughter. To think that someone so stunning could be related to a complete monster.

And if she was the Princess, in that case, he presumed, the similarly veiled girl in the throne farthest to the right must be Mileena. Her hair was shorter and she was clad in a deep magenta colored dress with long, loose sleeves, bare shoulders, and black details.

Unlike her sister, Princess Mileena sported a cleavage – a deep one. Her dress was also obviously shorter, with a slit up one thigh. To add to the contrast, instead of sharing Princess Kitana’s poised and proper manner, Princess Mileena sat slumped in her chair with one elbow propped upon the armrest and her cheek in her palm, visibly bored out of her mind. However, despite their differences there was no question that they were indeed sisters, although Princess Mileena did have a lot more to brag about involving both hips and bust. In truth, the revealing dress that barely covered said curves, together with the fact that she was obviously the younger one – mid-teens as opposed to Princess Kitana’s early twenties, he guessed – made her quite uncomfortable to look at. Kang swiftly averted his eyes to the last woman, who stood behind Princess Kitana.

She was taller, with a darker complexion, pitch-black hair tied back, and more noticeable muscle. Her attire consisted of tight long pants, slim boots, and gloves. Everything was in black, except for a snug, dark green vest with golden accents and a corresponding mask hiding her lower face.

Jade – Kang identified her as – the Princesses’ bodyguard. That, coupled with the much more practical outfit, might mean that she would be participating.

Between the Princesses sat a graying old man in a long robe decorated by golden flames and black snakes – Shang Tsung. He wasn’t coming across nearly as intimidating as Kang had been told. Of course, old was seldom the same thing as harmless.

Behind Princess Mileena – mirroring Jade’s position – stood a truly hideous being. Burly and standing somewhat hunched with pasty skin and tusks so enormous they couldn’t be contained within its mouth. How he could successfully eat or even speak, Kang did not know. In any case, it could be nothing but a Tarkatan. If Kang recalled correctly, it was Baraka, one of Shao Kahn’s foremost enforcers.

He if anyone would fight – no doubt about it.

“Kombatants!”

Shang Tsung had risen from his chair; with a complacent face and his arms outstretched in a dramatic gesture, he spoke with a rough, croaky voice.

“I, Shang Tsung, greet you all most cordially. It is my great honor to be your host, which I this time share with the Princesses of Outworld themselves!”

Kang stole another glance at Princess Kitana. She was attentively listening to Shang Tsung’s speech, sitting straight-backed but relaxed, occasionally beholding the masses. And then her gaze fell on him.

She must have felt him watching her, for her head snapped in his direction without warning. Kang started when she did, quickly looking away even though he knew he’d reacted too slowly and that she’d already caught him gawking at her. Mortified, he fixed his eyes on Shang Tsung again, trying to fight the heat that spread over his face. He kept stubbornly staring at the old man for what he thought must’ve been several minutes, before allowing himself to watch the Princess from the corner of his eye.

She was still looking in his direction. Actually, no, she was still looking _at him_.

Kang carefully set his sights back on her. She didn’t seem upset with him for blatantly staring; her face had the same soft expression as before. By the way her cheeks appeared to have risen slightly, it almost gave the impression she was smiling behind the veil.

So, Kang did what any respectable person would have done in his situation, and sent a stiff wave her way. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. Kang sincerely wished the matches would begin soon so that someone could put him out of his misery.

Princess Kitana shifted in her chair – took a quick look to the left, to the right – before she hastily lifted her hand and waved back.

Kang blinked, dumbfounded. Then he noticed himself beaming. He bashfully tried to contain his reaction, but simply couldn’t. On the other end of the arena, Princess Kitana quivered with silent amusement. She brought up one hand to brush at her bangs, and peered over at him, locking their eyes together. Even at the current distance, he could tell they were dark and surrounded by thick lashes.

“ _Liu Kang._ ”

Kang almost jumped at the sound of his name. Raiden was looking daggers at him, eyes ominously shadowed by the brim of his hat. Kang hesitated before sheepishly turning to the god, shoulder drawn up to his ears.

“Ehm… Yes?”

“ _Pay attention!_ ”

“Yes sir!”

He turned back to the podium, standing erect, head steadily directed at Shang Tsung. Next to the still talking sorcerer, Princess Kitana was laughing again.

“…the most important Mortal Kombat to date! This tournament, the tenth after nine Outworld victories, will determine Earthrealm’s fate.” Shang Tsung’s eyes hung over the fighters, having become much crueler than when he started speaking. “If you defeat all of your opponents, you will face one final challenge – me.”

A loud snorting sound erupted from a few meters away from them. A blond, well-built man, wearing sunglasses and a tux that would have been better suited at a gala of some kind, was clasping his hand in front of his mouth, doing his best to keep the hysterics at bay.

“Oh, please excuse me,” he said, without any remorse in his intonation, when he became aware of everyone’s eyes on him. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. Please continue, Mr. Final Challenge.”

Kang’s jaw dropped.

“Lord Raiden,” he whispered. “Is that _Johnny Cage?_ ”

“Indeed it is,” Raiden said.

“Why is he here?”

“I invited him.”

“What? Why? Surely, you don’t think that-”

Kang cut himself off when Raiden cleared his throat indignantly. The Thunder God was looming over the young monk, eyes dangerously narrowed.

“Do you _doubt_ my judgement, _Liu Kang?_ ”

His own eyes widening, Kang took an instinctive step back.

“N-no! Of course I don’t!”

Raiden’s glare lingered on him, dissecting his facial expression as if trying to conclude whether he was lying, before the god’s face lit up.

“Good!” he said, finally straightening up and backing away. He returned his attention to the stage, inclining his head as a suggestion for Kang to do the same.

On the podium, Shang Tsung snickered affably.

“You are confident, Mr. Cage. But I advise you to be careful; appearances can be deceiving.” The sorcerer took a few steps back to seat himself on his throne. “Our first kombatant for day one will be Johnny Cage!”

Cage laughed as he strode out onto the arena.

“Oh yeah, that’s right!”

“And fighting on behalf of Outworld…” Shang Tsung paused momentarily, his manner self-assured. “Reptile!”

A tall, lean figure materialized from the shadows and stepped into the ring. Silent and graceful, he took his place opposite the actor, fastening his yellow gaze upon him.

The Saurian…

The last one, they said.

With the dull, green scales, sharp talons, and slit eyes staring intently he already looked intimidating enough without suddenly emerging out of thin air. It seemed that Johnny Cage agreed, standing stunned and slack-jawed. But then he reverted back to the cocky grin from before, actually coming across as more eager to fight than earlier.

“ _Alright!_ ” he said, cracked his knuckles, and rolled back his shoulders. Reptile emitted a small growl as he assumed a fighting stance. Shang Tsung looked between the two, a hand raised towards them.

“ _Fight!_ ”

Reptile leapt, claws extended and ready – probably to end things quickly by ripping the actor’s throat out or something equally gruesome – when Cage _glid_ forward, glowing with a greenish aura, and placed a kick square in his opponent’s thorax. The Saurian was sent flying off the stage and crashed into the structure at the far end.

The seconds that followed were deathly quiet as everyone gaped at the scene before them… until Cage laughed triumphantly and boxed the air in front of him. Kang’s mouth hung open; his eyes must have been the size of saucers when he glimpsed up at a smug-looking Raiden.

Far to the right Reptile rose from the heap of debris, snarling. Cage turned to the Saurian with a buoyant expression, boldly beckoning to him with his hand. Reptile answered by unhinging his jaw and spitting a large droplet of nauseating green slime at the actor, who just barely brought his arm up to block.

“ _Yeow!_ ”

Cage yelped as he trashed about before managing to rip off his suit jacket and throw it to the ground, where the acidic fluids quickly ate it. Cage grimaced at the display.

“That,” he said whilst giving Reptile a pointed look, “was Italian silk. Costs $2,000. Just FYI.”

He charged up his right hand with the same greenish energy from before and threw the “energy ball” at Reptile. The Saurian dodged, nimbly vaulting towards Cage until he was close enough to slice at him with his claws. Cage stepped back, but still received a long gash on his upper arm, and another smaller on his cheek.

Hissing in pain, Cage hit Reptile in the face. The uppercut caused the Outworlder to stagger before regaining his balance; he quickly spun around to kick Cage’s torso. He delivered two quick blows to the actor’s face, and was ready to slice at his legs when Cage thrust his knee into Reptile’s chin and elbowed him in the face. Reptile produced the same acidic slime in his hand and tried hitting Cage in the chest, but Cage shirked. Neither of them were seemingly able to outmatch the other.

And then Cage went into a split and punched Reptile in the groin.

Kang felt his nether regions twisting as he involuntarily sucked in air through his teeth. Among the spectators, muffled winces and groans could be heard (and possibly a few stifled sniggers as well).

Reptile, standing doubled over, trembled as he forced his head up to growl feebly at the actor.

Cage merely smiled as he got up, took a stance, and somersaulted backwards in a tauntingly flashy manner. He kicked Reptile in the chin, sending him flying and landing with a thump.

He wriggled on the ground, attempted to rise one more time… and collapsed on the stone arena as his arms finally gave in.

Cage stood ready for a few seconds. When it was certain his opponent was not getting up again any time soon, he started cheering proudly.

“You just got Caged, my friend!” he crooned, pointing at his opponent.

On his throne at the podium, Shang Tsung smiled.

“Yes,” he said in a honeyed voice. “Very well done. And now…” He looked over at Reptile’s unmoving, but still conscious, form, a tranquil fury flickering in his otherwise cold eyes. “ _Finish him._ ”

Cage ceased his self-celebration within an instant, turning to give the old man an odd stare.

“Ah, _excusez-moi_ , but when you say ‘finish’, do you mean as in ‘kill’?” Cage asked, squinting at the sorcerer over his sunglasses.

“Yes!” Shang Tsung said impatiently. “Do it now!”

Cage looked one last time at the immobile Saurian; then he laughed, a short, snorting chuckle.

“Pfft, no way! I’m not killing anyone!” he said whilst slowly walking backwards to his spot in the crowd. “Do it yourself, Lo Pan.”

Shang Tsung seethed on his throne, eyes narrowed into thin creases. He gestured to the guards below him, and then begun to announce the next match while they hurried up to the arena to drag Reptile away.

Kang spotted Johnny Cage, who had returned to stand among the spectators. He was pressing his hand against his cheek, his face contorted, muttering something inaudible.

To his left Raiden was still smiling contentedly, seeming pleased with the course of events, and in all probability with himself as well.

Lastly, he allowed himself another of view of Princess Kitana, over at the podium.

Her eyes were closed; she was breathing deeply with one hand clenched into a fist and pressed against her breast, against her heart. From behind, Jade inconspicuously laid one hand on the Princess’s shoulder to squeeze it in what seemed to be a comforting manner. She leaned down to whisper something, to which Princess Kitana slowly nodded. Straightening her back, she removed her hand and opened her eyes to continue watching the second match as serenely and regally as she had the first one.

* * *

Close to seven hours and more than a dozen fights later, Shang Tsung stood to proclaim the first day of the tournament officially over. During this time, Kang hadn’t been called to move from his place at Raiden’s side – which meant that he would have to wait until the next day. He wasn’t sure if the wait was preferable.

A few fights had been horribly unbalanced, ending in seconds by one opponent pretty much pulverizing the other. Most of them had been fairly even, however, and by the end of the day, Earthrealm had almost as many wins as Outworld did. Raiden still looked to be in a pleasant mood too, so Kang figured things were boding well.

The Thunder God put one hand on Kang’s shoulder in order to steer him forward in the swarm of people that were beginning to dissipate and move away from the arena. Some of them paused to send quick signs, bows, and greetings their way. Kang wondered how many people Raiden had taught and mentored in anticipation to the tournament. Before he could ask, they abruptly stopped walking.

The sun set at least half an hour prior, but Johnny Cage was nonetheless wearing his sunglasses. He had discarded the tie, though, and rolled up his shirtsleeves, probably to treat the cut on his arm.

“Hey! _Sweet hat!_ ” he said, grinning at Raiden.

Kang scowled at the brazenness, but decided not to say anything when Raiden didn’t seem to mind.

“Thank you, Mr. Cage. You fought well.”

Cage mouth dropped open, and he slowly pulled off his glasses. Kang was surprised he actually had eyes.

“I recognize that voice! You’re the guy on the phone! You never said anything about killing!”

“My apologies,” Raiden said wryly. “But I couldn’t risk you _not_ showing up.”

“Yeah? Why not?”

“Because all of Earthrealm is at risk!” Kang blurted out.

Cage looked down at him in a manner that said he didn’t notice him standing there until now.

“What.”

“This tournament was created by the Elder Gods as a means for earth to defend itself. If we lose this, the whole world will be conquered by Outworld.”

“The Elder _what?_ ”

Kang gave Raiden an exasperated look.

“Ancient immortal beings,” the god said. “Nearly omnipotent. Outworld’s ruler, Shao Kahn, has long tried to merge his realm with ours, which only can be done after ten successive wins in Mortal Kombat. This will be the tenth win, unless we do something.”

Cage stood, arms crossed and silently tapping his folded up sunglasses against his brachium. After a few moments, he nodded.

“So… As long as we survive this whole debacle, we’ll be safe?”

“Yes,” Raiden said.

“I didn’t think you’d believe us this quickly,” Kang admitted.

Cage snorted as he slid the sunglasses back on.

“Kiddo; when I was six, I nearly made my mom go bald while braiding her hair because _this_ happened,” he said and lifted his hand for them to see, which right away blazed up with green.

Kang mumbled incoherently and shuffled his feet. That had been a pretty stupid assumption, hadn’t it?

“Also, I just kicked around a lizard-dude that spat acid at me.”

A really, _really_ stupid assumption.

Raiden stepped between them, a hand on each of their shoulders.

“Well. Why don’t you two acquaint yourself some more – I have a few things to take care of,” he said and briskly left. Before Kang could call any objections after him, he’d disappeared into the mass together with a tall man with long, dark hair put up in a ponytail.

Kang sighed, defeated. Cage slung one arm over his shoulder with a grin.

“So, kiddo. You know a lot about all this, huh?”

Kang glared up at him.

“Don’t call me a kid! I’m 22 years old! My name is Liu Kang.”

“Alright then, _Liu Kang._ I’m going to have a look around this place. You in?”

Kang hesitated. It was late, and he was to fight the next day. He needed to be well rested.

“Come on!” Cage said. “You’ve seen this place, right?”

“I guess…” he said. As soon as he did, Cage grabbed him by his wrist and dragged him away.

They went downhill the same path they’d gone up earlier that day, continuing almost all the way to the beaches. Occasionally they stopped to take a closer look at the fauna, the old temples, and statues that in all probability were spread out everywhere on the island, some of them more downtrodden than others. Cage made conversation the entire time, frequently making observations on how much of the property reminded him of other stuff. Mostly it was of sets where he’d filmed and resorts he’d visited, but a few comments regarding his childhood home in California kept popping up every now and again.

It was right after they exited the Shrine of Warriors (where Cage had gotten visually impressed when Kang knew both the name of the monument as well as some of the people depicted therein) when Cage finally paused for breath, and directed his full attention to Kang.

“What about you?” he asked. “Where are you from?”

“Central China,” Kang said, and, because it didn’t seem enough for Cage who kept curiously looking at him, added, “I grew up in a monastery.”

Cage hummed.

“Monks aren’t supposed to get busy, right?”

“No,” Kang said with a smile. “My parents died when I was two.”

“Oh! Um… I’m sorry.”

Kang shrugged lightly.

“I don’t really remember anything about them. The monks have been my family for as long as I know. My cousin’s parents died as well – it was a car crash – so we grew up together, like brothers.”

Cage gazed up at the sky contemplatively.

“I haven’t got any siblings. What’s it like?”

“It’s fun, I guess. You never have to be alone.” Kang quieted for a short while before asking: “What’s it like to have parents?”, to which Cage chuckled.

“It’s okay. My mom is a violinist in an orchestra. My dad’s an accountant; wanted me to become one too. Can you imagine his disappointment when I said I wanted to act?” Cage pretended to grasp a pair of invisible lapels, pulled down the corners of his mouth into a comically exaggerated grimace, and spoke with a droning tone. “’Son, you must see this acting business will never get you anywhere in life.’” He grinned broadly, indicating to himself and his ruined $2,000 suit. “And as you can see, I’ve led a very hard life.”

Kang giggled. He realized he’d been wrong about the actor. Sure, he did talk a lot, and mostly about himself, but Kang found himself liking Johnny anyway.

“Mom was more supportive,” he said, smiling fondly. “I remember this one time when I was eight: she’d been hired to play during a local rendition of _Peter Pan_ , and we got free tickets for the opening night.”

“Was that what made you want to become an actor?” Kang guessed rather than asked.

Johnny laughed heartily. “How did you know?”

Kang made a gesture of uncertainty and was ready to ask what Johnny’s father thought of his choice of career nowadays, when Johnny grabbed hold of his shoulder.

“Hey, do you know what that is?” he asked, pointing over at a stone bridge suspended between two triangular pillars that rose out of the mountain. Kang rummaged through his memory as he considered the landscape.

“I think it’s the Pit,” he said. “There’s supposed to be spikes and rivers of blood on the bottom of it.”

“ _Nice!_ ”

To reach the bridge they had to find an entrance further down the mountain and walk up a long flight of stairs. Inside the hollowed out rock there was also a passageway going to the left and – by the looks of it – around to the other side. Another staircase led underground – possibly to the depths of the pit, possibly somewhere else. Kang preferred not to think about it, hoping the stairs wouldn’t branch out as they moved upward. The very notion of getting lost didn’t even seem to enter Johnny’s mind, however, for he marched on without apprehension, using long strides that required Kang to jog in order to keep up.

And it turned out for him to be right not to worry when the pale moonlight became visible just up ahead and they arrived safely on the top.

They were just going to exit the mountain when Johnny came to an abrupt halt, and Kang nearly collided with a second back that night.

“ _Heeeelloooo_ …” the actor said. Craning his neck to see over his shoulder, Kang got a view of a tall, young woman standing on the bridge, looking at her wristwatch.

She had long blond hair pulled back into a low ponytail, and was dressed in black cargo pants, a black shirt, combat boots, and what seemed to be a bulletproof vest. It was plain she was on edge; her face had a strained expression and her posture was rigid.

“It’s the hottie from before!”

“Huh?”

“She stood beside me earlier tonight, but she disappeared near the end,” Johnny said and began walking towards her, when Kang seized his arm in an attempt to pull him back. “What?”

“Umm…” Kang looked over at the vexed woman, visibly struggling not to scream out into the night, and frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“C’mon! You’ll be my wingman!”

“I _really_ don’t-” Kang said, cutting himself off when Johnny strode forward. In spite of his reservation, the monk hesitantly followed.

“Blade to Command; do you read? Come on!” the woman said, frustration coating her inflection as it got louder. Kang heard a cracking erupt from her wrist as they came closer. When a muted and slightly distorted reply came from it, he understood the watch was in fact a communicator of some kind.

“…hear you, Blade, but… breaking up… status?”

“No sight of Kano yet, and Jax is missing. We need immediate backup, and possibly evac.”

“Understood… coordinates… nothing… island’s gone…”

“What? How the hell-”

“…tried triangulating… no island nearby…”

“Just lock onto my wrist comm.!”

“…signal is vague… all over the place… impossible…”

The radio crackled ominously before falling completely silent. The woman called out again, but when it became obvious that she’d get no response she snarled at the device before shutting it off and buried her head in her hands.

Johnny cleared his throat.

“Need help? I happen to specialize in rescuing damsels in distress,” he said as he sent her a dazzling smile.

The woman glared at him, her eyes so bright blue you wouldn’t think them capable of looking so angry.

“You again,” she said with a sneer. “Look, I’m having a situation here. I’m _not_ in the mood for any bullshit.”

“I’m not going to offer any,” Johnny said, confidence never faltering. “Girl like you shouldn’t be wandering around all alone, you know.”

She gave him a hard stare, shook her head and turned to leave, but Johnny quickly caught her wrist.

“I’m serious, baby, you-”

She whirled around, yanked her hand back and pointed her finger in his face, sizzling with anger.

“ _Don’t call me ‘baby’!_ ”

Johnny held up his hands apologetically, just one the verge of saying something when Kang felt he needed to interrupt.

“M-ma’am, there’s no point calling for help, the barrier won’t let anyone through…”

He trailed off. The woman’s head twisted to him, her eyes widening a little bit. Kang suspected she hadn’t become aware of his presence until just now.

“No one will get on the island, and we can’t get off… not until the tournament is over,” he said quietly. “That’s why you’re having problems with your…” He pointed to her wrist communicator.

She stared at him for a few seconds, then shut her eyes tightly and took a deep breath.

“Just… What the _fuck_ is all this?”

“Um, Mortal Kombat. Earth’s last chance of freedom before Shao Kahn merges it with Outworld.”

She blinked several times; then looked over at Johnny.

“I didn’t know until an hour ago either,” he told her cheerfully.

More silence went by as she looked between them, perhaps waiting for someone to shout a belated ”April fools”. When they didn’t, she brought one hand up to rub her eyes tiredly.

“So what that old guy said before is…”

“True,” Kang said, nodding for emphasis.

“Okay,” she said. “That’ll have to be dealt with. But first I have to find my C.O.”

She snapped to Johnny, pointing at him again just as he opened his mouth.

“Alone! You go do whatever you like, but don’t follow me!”

Slowly she walked backwards, eyeing them warily, until she reached the opening in the rock that Johnny and Kang came through minutes prior, where she swiveled around and departed into the darkness.

Johnny folded his arms as he watched her leave. When she’d been gone for just about ten seconds, he turned to Kang.

“Let’s follow her!”

Kang gave him a look of disbelief. “But she just said-”

“Liu!” Johnny said, gripping Kang’s shoulders tightly. “She clearly has no idea what’s going on yet. _I_ don’t know yet. She’ll need us.”

“Well…”

“ _You_ wouldn’t want to be walking around this freak show alone, at night, right?”

Kang contemplated the actor’s words, chewing his lip and taking in the peaked mountain with the murky entrance. He ran a hand down his face and sighed.

“Okay… Let’s go.”

She hadn’t gotten far; while they couldn’t see her, they did hear her footsteps echoing below. Kang felt his heart sink when, instead of exiting the mountain, the woman continued underground. That flight of stairs was far longer than the one going up; the discomfort grew within Kang with each step. It seemed like an eternity had passed when they finally made it to the narrow hallway on the bottom. On the other end, the warm flames of torches shone like minuscule dots in the distance. With Johnny still in the lead, they slowly crept forward to it, peeking out of the shadows.

It was a dungeon. Bulky iron bars in front of cavities in the walls made for crude cells. Remains of different creatures hung from the ceiling in shackles. The air was humid, the smell of body fluids and decay biting.

In the middle of the chamber was the blonde woman, with her back towards Johnny and Kang, standing akimbo while scrutinizing her surroundings.

She groaned as she brought up her hands to knead at her temples.

“I told you to stay away!”

The breath caught in Kang’s throat. He and Johnny exchanged quick glances; for a second, a fleeting hint of alarm came over Johnny’s face. Then he plastered on his usual grin and stepped out into the open.

“Did you? I must have missed it due to your _deafening_ beauty.”

She glowered at him, teeth gritted, fists clenched. Kang trod forth to stand in-between them.

“You really shouldn’t be here,” he said.

The woman cried out in exasperation. “I’ve had it! I don’t want your help! Will you get that into your thick skulls?”

Kang looked back at Johnny, silently asking what to do next. Johnny opened his mouth, but all that came out was a shocked ” _Oof!_ ” as something seized the neck of his shirt and hauled him back into the dark corridor.

There was a thud, something heavy hitting the ground. The woman rushed up beside Kang, gun drawn and eyes attentively trained on the spot Johnny had been standing. After a moment without sound, a large shape stepped out of the shadows.

“’Ello, baby… Did you miss me?”

The man was huge, almost as big as Raiden. Metal covered the upper right side of his face, a mechanical eye illuminating his features with a disturbing red glow.

“Kano!” The woman spat out the word as if they physically hurt her. The giant laughed.

“In the flesh! So tell me… how’re things at Command?”

“Bastard!” she screamed, aiming at his legs. Kano grinned.

“If you wanna threaten me, you should’ve removed the safety,” he said before propelling himself at her, knocking her to the ground and raised his arm to hit her in the face. Just as his fist was about to land, Kang threw himself around his neck, pulling his arm back. Kano made a strangled growl.

“What do you think you’re doin’, flea?” he said, gripping Kang’s head along with his shoulder and tearing him off. Kang flew to the side like a ragdoll and smacked into the bars of one of the cells. Gasping for air, his head throbbing, he saw the woman kick Kano off her. He was swiftly back on his feet, pulling out a knife that he began slashing at her with. She jumped back, kicked him in the ribs, punched him when he doubled over.

As he stumbled back, knife dropped, she did a handstand, grabbing Kano’s torso with her legs and lifted him up in the air, then slammed him into the ground behind her.

Roaring, Kano got up again. A beam of red light shot from his eye, hitting her square in the chest. He brought forth another knife, holding the blade as if he was going to throw it, but was thwarted by a ball of green energy striking his face.

Behind them, Johnny was standing in the corridor’s opening.

“Hey! Step away from the lady!”

Kano’s eye lit up again. Kang saw his chance. Flinging himself forward, he kicked the brute in the stomach and head, then spun so his heel struck Kano’s temple. He punched him rapidly three times, and climbed on top of him to kick him in the back of his head, making him tumble forward.

Johnny and the blonde ran up to them. She jumped forth, about to kick Kano again as he stood, when he grabbed her leg mid-air. Whirling around, he chucked her into Kang and Johnny, leaving them in a heap on the ground.

“Love to stay an’ chat, darlin’,” he huffed, backing away. “But I got business to take care of.”

And with that, he scurried out of the dungeon, back to the staircase.

“Oh, no you _don’t!_ ” she said, untangling herself from the men and sprinting after him.

“Does she ever give up?” Johnny asked while groaning as he and Kang followed suit.

Kang’s head was still pounding; he saw colors and blinking lights dancing before his eyes. All his concentration went to drawing deep breaths and not tripping on the steps.

The cool night-air was like a punch to the face. The first thing Kang could make out after his vision cleared was the woman failing to strike Kano as his hands closed around her neck. He pressed her down on her knees, strangling her so viciously it made her whole body shake, and cackled like he was mad.

Kang didn’t think, only leaped and kicked the huge man in the head. The woman fell to the floor, wheezing and coughing. Kano glared at Kang.

“Gettin’ tired of you now,” he grumbled, picked Kang up liked he weighed nothing, and tossed him over the edge.

At the last minute, Kang managed to grip one of the gigantic spikes that stuck out from under the bridge. Above him, he heard the scuffle continue. He tried to climb up, but could only dangle over the lethal trap on the bottom.

“Johnny!” he screamed, panic rising. “Help!”

“What?”

Johnny’s head came into view over the border, his jaw dropping.

“Shit! Hold on, I’ll just…” he said, lying down on his stomach and extending his arm to Kang, but the gap was too big.

In the background, the racket had subsided.

“What are you doing?” the woman asked, annoyed. She leaned over the side of the bridge, eyes widening. “ _Damn!_ ”

She tried to reach as well, but her arm was even shorter than Johnny’s.

The sweat poured down Kang’s forehead. The palms of his hands were turning clammy; he started to slip.

“Do you have anything to pull him up with?” Johnny yelled.

“No! I don’t… Wait! I know!”

Kang glimpsed down. He wasn’t sure how long the drop was, but he’d be lucky if he only broke his legs on impact.

His hands slid down the spike. He screamed as he fell.

It felt as though his shoulder would pop out of its socket when he lurched to a stop. He looked up. The woman was hanging off the bridge with her upper body in the air, Johnny holding her legs so she wouldn’t fall off. She tightened her grip around Kang’s wrist.

“I’ve got you, kiddo!” she said, eyes burning triumphantly.

Kang only bobbed his head, dazed, whilst they pulled him up. Once he was back and safe on the bridge they all sunk to the ground, utterly wiped-out. Behind them, Kano lay face down on the stone.

“Thanks,” Kang said between noisy inhales, looking at the woman. She lowered her gaze.

“Thanks yourself,” she breathed out.

Johnny made a pained grunt as he stood up to straighten his back with a cracking sound.

“So,” he said whilst jerking his head in the direction of the unconscious man. “Who’s the Terminator?”

The woman massaged a bruise that had begun to form on her neck, and allowed Johnny to pull her off the ground when he offered his hand to her.

“Kano,” she said. “Leader of the Black Dragon – arms dealers, mainly. He was also our informant. We didn’t realize he’d fooled us until he’d gotten over a dozen of our men killed.”

She looked behind Johnny, her face screwing up in fury. “ _Fuck!_ ”

The spot where Kano had been lying was empty. Kang sighed.

“We can get him, no big deal,” Johnny said unconvincingly, but the woman shook her head.

“No, it can wait. First I need to find my C.O.”

“First you need some rest,” Johnny said, peering at her face lined with fatigue.

“Yes please,” Kang said weakly from the ground. Johnny chuckled.

“Alright, Liu. I got you…” he said and slung Kang’s arm over his shoulder, in order to half-carry him off the bridge and to the courtyard where their accommodations were located.

“Liu… That’s your name?” the woman asked as she walked beside them.

“Liu Kang,” Kang said with a nod. “Hi.”

Johnny started to introduce himself. “And I’m-”

“Superstar Johnny Cage; yes, I know,” the woman said with a roll of her eyes. Then her features softened; she awarded them a thin smile.

“I’m Sonya Blade,” she said, holding out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”


	3. Blood Is The Sole Necessity

** Chapter 3 – Blood Is The Sole Necessity, ** ** or **

** Eleven Lonely Hours **

 

Liu Kang was studying his opponent. He was tall and lean, but muscular. His fingers ended with what resembled claws; his teeth had pointed tips and sizable canines. Overall, he reminded Kang of an animal, mostly of a big cat.

The Outworld party had taken their seats on the podium like last night, and today Raiden was joining them. He _was_ after all Earth’s protector and technically possessed an equal amount of power over the tournament as Shang Tsung did.

The sorcerer extended his hand to them, ordering the fight to begin.

The two fighters circled each other, looking for openings and weak points. The cat attacked, punching at Kang's torso and head. Dodging, Kang sent a kick to the man's leg. He struck his palm at his chest, punched him twice, and kicked him in the stomach. Snarling, the man blocked another punch, then twisted around and grazed Kang's arm with his claws.

It was a light wound, but the talons were undoubtedly sharp. Kang pictured himself lying on his back, his belly cut open with the intestines out on the ground. Perhaps it would be wise to keep some distance between them.

At that moment, the man lunged forward and socked Kang in the throat. Kang staggered, then fell as the man swept one leg beneath his. The man stomped down; Kang barely rolled away in time. He got up, the man aimed a blow, but Kang blocked. Instead, he managed a strike of his own, in the face, then in the stomach, a kick to the knee, and lastly a kick to the man’s shin. The man advanced, about to hit Kang’s face, but suddenly ducked down and punched him in the gut instead. He uppercut, thrust his elbow into Kang’s temple, and seized his throat with his hand. The claws scraped against his skin, threatening to puncture. Kang grabbed the man’s wrist, tugging to get loose, then kicked his knee. The grip slackened, Kang tore away. The man followed, slashing after Kang, who parried, spun around, and punched him in the back. The man flew forward, whilst Kang jumped back, distancing himself from the other. The man pulled himself to his feet, crouched, made himself ready to leap. Kang put his hands together, inhaled, and focused on his target. He needed to aim carefully.

His opponent jumped forward in an arc, claws out, teeth bared.

Kang felt the heat flare up in his palms, and launched a ball of fire up in the air. It hit the man square in the torso, and he dropped to the ground.

The catlike man went still almost instantly. Kang kept his guard up as he edged forward. The man’s chest, though singed, slowly moved up and down. Sweat coated his frame. Probably – hopefully – the pain and shock was what made him pass out.

“Finish him!”

Kang watched over the Outworlder lying unconscious on the ground. He faced Shang Tsung, forcing his back straight.

“No,” he said, his tone firm. “As the representative for the White Lotus Society, I choose mercy. A Shaolin is not a murderer.”

The annoyance in Shang Tsung’s countenance was unmistakable. Signaling for his guards to remove the knocked-out fighter, he announced the next participants. Raiden’s mouth tugged into a half-smile. Kang could hear him already: _“Impressive little speech. Did you write it down in advance, or did you improvise?”_

To their right, Princess Kitana sat elegant and gracious like she had the day before, her eyes glittering when they for a split second locked with Kang’s own.

Kang returned to his place by the sidelines, where his new friends were waiting. The tall, dark-haired man Raiden had spoken to the night before was there too, now with his hair loose and red paint decorating his face, around his brown eyes and down on his cheeks. He had introduced himself as Nightwolf that morning, right before stepping into the arena as the first human to fight for the day. The match ended after only a few minutes of combat with him reflecting his opponent’s attack back at her.

Now he gave Kang an impassive but approving nod while Sonya patted his shoulder and Johnny coaxed for a high-five.

“You didn’t say you could shoot fire! That was awesome!”

“It was very impressive.”

Kang lowered his gaze embarrassedly, mumbling in response to the compliments.

“It has been going well thus far…” Nightwolf said as he perused the sundrenched arena, then turned his attention to the enflamed scratches on Kang’s arm. “You should go and get that cleaned.”

“Huh? Oh!”

Kang lifted his arm to behold the scrapes. The wound as much as vanished from his mind soon after receiving it, but now that the adrenaline wore out and he gave it some thought he realized it did sting quite a lot.

“It’s… not so bad…” he said, trying to dismiss it.

Nightwolf raised a skeptical eyebrow in his otherwise stony face.

“Now,” he said, and Kang knew it was pointless to argue. He began wading through the audience in the direction of the combatants’ residences.

“There will be an intermission after this match for food and such. We’ll wait for you here,” Nightwolf called after him.

Kang jogged along the hallway to his chamber, into the accompanying bathroom and washed the cuts with soap and cold water as quickly as he could. If he hurried, he might have time to see the end of the match. Even if he didn’t, he wouldn’t keep the others waiting, he rationalized.

When only fine, red lines palely remained on his white skin, he splashed his face to remove most of the dust and grime, then dashed out to return to the courtyard.

The instant he stepped outside, he knew something wasn’t right. Further down the corridor stood a single guard.

Guards were always positioned in front of Shang Tsung and the Princesses during the matches, and some were among the spectators to make sure no one interfered. Many were also always placed outside of Shang Tsung’s castle, where the fighters weren’t allowed to venture.

But other than that, they were scarce on the island; Kang had never seen one outside his bedroom before.

So, it was with measured steps – while still trying to act relaxed – that Kang walked down the passage, making an effort not to look at the guard’s black-and-white mask as he passed him. The guard didn’t acknowledge Kang either, standing completely still and straight-backed.

Then, Kang felt his foot get caught in something. He desperately stumbled forward, only barely managing to regain his balance and succeed in not crashing to the ground.

He turned around. The guard was looking down at him, still with his back firmly to the wall, but having stuck out his spear slightly – perfectly in level to trip someone. He cocked his head faintly to the right.

“How are you going to win if you can’t even walk straight?”

Kang rose quickly, cheeks reddening in humiliation and anger, but almost instantly halted his movement to stare at the guard. He _knew_ that voice.

“…Lao?”

The guard stood immobile for another second, then burst into a fit of giggles. Pulling the mask from his face, Kung Lao cheerfully peered out at Kang.

“Hello,” he said whilst sniggering at Kang’s gaping expression.

“Lao,” Kang whispered after gathering himself. He hastily looked around them to make sure they were alone. “How did you…? And when?”

“Snuck aboard on the ship with the rest of you. I _was_ going to reveal myself yesterday, but you disappeared in the crowd.”

“But Lao,” Kang said nervously, “The White Lotus chose me to represent them; you shouldn’t be here.”

Lao rolled his eyes.

“I _know_ that, you nitwit,” he said as he begun peeling the guard uniform off him, and pulled his broadbrimmed hat from behind the shield. “I’m not here to fight, just to cheer you on. Be your… moral support.”

He paused to free the drab, oversized uniform from his feet. After kicking it away, he put a hand on Kang’s shoulder while giving him a gentle, reassuring smile. The calming kind that only Lao and no one else could do.

“You didn’t think I’d leave my little cousin to travel around half the world and save the entire realm all alone, and with _Raiden_?”

Kang couldn’t restrain himself; he started giggling like a child. Lao grinned impishly and wrapped his arms around Kang’s shoulders, who instantly hugged back.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” Kang said.

“Me too,” Lao said. With his arm still around Kang they resumed the walk back to the courtyard.

“But Lord Raiden almost certainly won’t be.”

Lao shrugged, unflappable as usual. “Meh, probably not. But don’t worry – I’ll take care of it.”

The courtyard was vacant when they arrived at it, except for Kang’s own party, which Raiden had now rejoined. Sonya was compulsively tapping her foot; Kang recalled he’d been meaning to hurry.

Whoops.

Raiden turned to them as they closed in, his white eyes narrowing into thin creases.

“What are you doing here?” he boomed.

Lao put his palms together and bowed deeply.

“Lord Raiden, I am honored to be in your presence,” he said, carefully peeking up. Raiden glowered at him. Still smiling brightly, Lao threw his arm around Kang again, creeping to an almost abysmal degree behind him, as if he was making himself ready to use Kang as a shield from the god’s wrath. “I simply couldn’t stand the thought of not personally rooting for Kang, so I followed. To be his moral support,” he added, pulling Kang closer so that they stood cheek-to-cheek and put on the biggest, most innocent smile he could muster. Kang did too, making an effort to look especially wide-eyed.

Raiden watched them wearily, then emitted a mixture of a sigh and a groan.

“Very well,” he said. “It’s not like I can get you thrown off the island anyway…”

Lao chuckled jubilantly while ruffling Kang’s hair.

“See? No problem,” he whispered.

Kang laughed. Then he remembered Johnny and Sonya standing to the side, seeming to be curious and possibly a little bit less irked than previously, respectively.

“This is Kung Lao,” he said.

“The Brother-Cousin!” Johnny said.

Lao sent Kang an inquisitive glance as Johnny immediately stuck out his hand for a shake.

“Johnny Cage,” he announced with a beam.

“Sonya Blade,” Sonya said, and didn’t move a muscle.

“Pleased to meet you,” Lao said.

“And this is Nightwolf.” Kang gestured to the Native American, who gave a curt nod before he and Raiden began moving towards the dining area. Sonya sped after them.

“Raiden, how long is this intermission going to last?” she asked.

“Approximately three hours,” he answered, looking down to fix his gaze at her. “I advise you not to progress too far away from the courtyard – your name might be drawn at any time during the first round.”

“And so might Jax’s!” she snapped back at him. “Is there really nothing you can do to find him?”

“I’m not psychic, Sonya,” he said, starting to sound exasperated.

Sonya scowled; both her fists clenched so the knuckles whitened. Raiden turned his back to her and continued walking, leaving her to curse up a storm.

“Who’s Jax?” Lao asked.

“Her superior officer,” Kang said, his brows knitted as he observed Sonya, who was looking absolutely furious.

Johnny dauntlessly sauntered up to pat her shoulder – though he did keep a noticeable distance between the two of them as he did it.

“Chin up, Sonya,” he said whilst motioned to himself, Kang, and Lao. “We’ll help you find him.”

“Great,” she said. “That worked _so well_ last time!”

“Only because you wouldn’t let us help,” Johnny said, unperturbed. “If we cooperate, it’ll be fine! We’ll find him.”

* * *

They hadn’t found him.

For two and a half hours they’d been running around, searching and calling for Jax Briggs, before they had to give up and return to the courtyard. Moreover, Kang was pretty sure they’d only explored a fourth of the island in that time – if they added the areas Sonya searched the day before as well. Now they were all at the back of the crowd, watching as the first afternoon-match ended.

Kang looked behind them. Sonya was pacing back and forth with her hands on her hips, a deep crease between her eyes.

Briefly, she stopped to stare at the arena where, at that very instant, a small woman broke the neck of her significantly larger opponent using her ankles. There was something distant and contemplative in her eyes, as if she was seeing something entirely different in her own mind.

The second match started. When Shang Tsung didn’t call Sonya’s name, she apparently made up her mind; she bolted down the path that led to the beach without delay.

“Guys! Sonya’s leaving,” Kang said.

Johnny and Lao turned just in time to see her go around the walls of shrubbery. The three men exchanged a heartbeat’s worth of looks before Johnny took off after her. Lao shook his head.

“You have acquired some odd friends, Kang,” he said right as the cousins set off running as well.

Sonya had left the main path to hike through the tall grass and the scrubs. She was vaulting over a big rock when she looked back and saw her pursuers.

“You boys don’t have to do this, you know,” she said, though she didn’t sound nearly as cross to see them as she had yesterday.

“We’re not the ones who risk disqualification,” Lao replied.

“Exactly!” Johnny said as he ducked beneath a low hanging tree branch. “So what’s the plan?”

Sonya stepped out from the wild growth and into a small glade. She held up her left arm to check her communicator, but ended up shutting it violently while cursing when it obviously didn’t do what she wanted it to. She brushed some strands of hair from her eyes.

“When we first arrived on the island, radio contact was fine. We were fine to split up. Then, everybody else got on the shore and suddenly none of my equipment worked anymore.”

Her demeanor was grimly determined when she began walking again, her pace slow and skulking.

“The last I heard from him, he’d gotten underground. And since we haven’t found him yet, and he hasn’t returned by his own…” She stopped by the other end of the glade, where some of the grass laid trampled to the ground, showing her teeth in an almost predatory manner. “…he must be farther away from the habitable part of the island than I initially thought.”

They went after her as she followed the trail of flattened grass, which appeared to go out of the woodlands and in the direction of a small mountain.

It was much smaller than the ones closer to the castle that surrounded the Pit, maybe not even classifying as a mountain at all. In the rock, there were several oblong crevices – some of which were shallow, others that seemed to travel far into the earth – but none of them were big enough to enter.

Then, as they circled around the peak, they found the large grotto leading downwards.

“We’re going in there?” Kang asked.

Humming as confirmation, Sonya moved inside the cavern with careful steps to take in the darkness. “You think we can use your fire to see?”

“Probably not… I can’t keep it alive for too long.”

Johnny cleared his throat dramatically.

“Never fear, men and lady!” he said, striding into the cave. His hand flared up and cast a green light that reached numerous meters behind him.

“Impressive,” Sonya said dryly, unholstering her gun. Whilst walking into the mouth of the grotto, she removed the magazine, checked the chamber, and finally inserted the magazine again as she looked at the three men. “Keep your eyes peeled, and _stay behind me._ Got it?”

They moved in a straight line: Sonya in the lead, Johnny right behind her to light the way, Kang after him, and lastly Lao – who insisted on going behind Kang – taking up the rear.

With the exception of their footsteps scraping against the ground, or an occasional stone rolling with a clatter when someone accidentally kicked it, everything was eerily quiet. There was no water trickling down the walls; the wind from outside quickly died as they got further in; everyone’s breathing was calm and nearly soundless. There was a section of the tunnel where the floor angled downwards, the gravel crunching beneath their feet as they slid down, but it was over quickly as the ground became level again. Soon, the discreet noise of their treads and breaths melted into the obscurity and all Kang could hear was a low whooshing sound that came from nowhere in particular.

The light didn’t make things much better either, to be honest.

Outside, it had been comforting to know that they would see where they were going and not stumble around. But now, the hue of Johnny’s energy-whatever-it-was was so… _alien_ , bright but ominous, that it left their faces with a sickly shade and made their shadows look ghoulish on the walls.

Kang tried to keep track of the time, but lost count somewhere after 27 minutes had passed. It was shortly after that that the passage got narrower, so much that they were forced to walk sideways with their backs pressed against the wall.

After that the path broadened again, though not as it was before. They kept walking, scanning for signs of life or traces that someone recently had been there, or just another corridor opening up to the side.

But the course remained linear and empty.

Then, they came to a sudden halt.

Sonya – whose ponytail was coming across more like seaweed than human hair – had ceased walking, one hand held up to signal the others.

“Kill the light,” she said. When Johnny did, a faint glow was visible further down.

Torches.

“Not a sound,” she whispered and walked even more cautiously than before.

Lao wordlessly put one hand on Kang’s shoulder, holding it there until they got to the end of the tunnel.

It led to a ledge, and beneath the ledge, less than five meters down, was a large hollow. It was filled with weapons, unconventional furniture, cabinets, chains and ropes hanging from the walls and ceiling, equipment with iron spikes protruding everywhere, and something that greatly resembled a pendulum.

After verifying that no one was there, they crept along the ledge, searching for a way down. Going left led them into the wall; going to the right they came upon a steep end. However, a closer inspection revealed small cracks and holes in the rock that made it possible to descend.

As in the dungeon, there were bodies hanging from some of the iron fetters, but unlike the dungeon, bits of carcasses laid strewn about on the floor. Some was even left to rot in some of the equipment, judging by the stench that rose from a few of them. The air was stale, with every corner of the place reeking of urine, feces, vomit, and decomposition.

Far on the other side of the crypt were four more tunnels. Kang wondered, as they stood facing the tunnels, if they would separate. He was incredibly thankful when Sonya told him a firm “ _No_ ”.

“Where do we start?” Lao asked.

Sonya walked back and forth in front of the ill-omened openings, occasionally sniffing the air.

“This one smells a bit like vegetation, a swamp…” she said whilst standing before the tunnel furthest to the left.

“Perhaps it leads above ground?” Kang said, hopefulness evident in his tone.

“…and death.”

Kang’s shoulders slumped. Lao patted his back reassuringly, but didn’t look the least bit happy either.

Sonya walked over to the next tunnel, drew in the odor.

“Copper,” she concluded.

“And death?” Johnny asked in jest, earning himself an unamused scowl.

The third tunnel “didn’t really smell like anything”, but the fourth definitely did as it caused Sonya to recoil in disgust, gagging and pressing her hands against her nose and mouth.

“Corpses, a lot,” she said as she coughed.

“So… Through number three?” Johnny asked.

She took some steps back, sucking in air whilst concurring, about to turn towards them, when a noise erupted from within the last tunnel. All four stiffened where they stood.

Sonya removed the safety from her gun. She pointed at them, mouthing " _Stay"_  while wearing an expression that dared them to defy her.

Her movements were quick, but silent. Back pressed against the wall of the tunnel, gun pointed down to the ground with fixed arms. She lingered for less than a second by the corner, and then jumped out.

Immediately her eyes widened. She gasped, then exhaled slowly in relief.

“Don’t go shooting me now, Lieutenant,” someone from behind the corner said.

“No risk,” Sonya answered him. Her face was illuminated with the first genuinely joyful smile Kang had seen her with.

The three rushed forward to Sonya, and came face to face with a large, bearded black man, dressed in clothes similar to Sonya’s, that stood slumped against the wall. He was dirty, his skin bearing bruises and scrapes, but he was happy, the white teeth a stark contrast to the murkiness surrounding him. Overall, he seemed to be well, if drained, for someone who’d been on his own for more than a day in a hostile, underground environment.

“This is our backup?” he asked, eyeing the newcomers.

Sonya gave them a dry, deprecating look.

“No,” she said with a sigh. “But they do well enough.”

Jax chuckled, and pushed himself off the wall to walk towards them. It straightaway became obvious that he had difficulty putting weight on his left leg when he sluggishly shuffled up to them.

“You’re injured,” Sonya said, her brow furrowed as she scrutinized him.

“Just a mild sprain,” he said. “I’ve been fleeing from some dreadfully ugly things for the past 30 hours. They’ve got a keen sense of smell, too.”

His eyes wandered around the smaller hollow as he gestured backwards, to where the stench was at its most putrid, and things shaped a lot like human limbs were sticking up.

“That’s why I’m hiding in here. Figured my scent would get lost among the others – and it did! Well, except for with this one,” he said, inclining his head to a gaunt, completely hairless thing that laid on the floor a bit away from them, and not among the other bodies. “But she was easy to dispose of.”

Looking up from the creature on the ground, Jax took another uneasy step. Seemingly on the verge of saying something else, he abruptly withheld his words to give Johnny a peculiar scan and a risen eyebrow.

“You’re Johnny Cage,” he said.

Johnny grinned and saluted.

“Yessir!”

Jax laughed softly. Sonya, however, was much less amused.

“We need to get you out of here, now,” she said grimly as she slung one of his arms over her shoulder. “Where did you come from?”

“That way,” Jax said, pointing to the third tunnel. “Leads to some dungeons. It’s a complete maze down here.”

“In that case we should go back the way we came,” Lao said. “There’s no risk of getting lost through there.”

Without any delay, they begun to return the way they’d come. With both Sonya and Johnny supporting Jax, he had little to no trouble moving forward. Suddenly, the cavern that led to the outside with sunlight and real air to breathe didn’t seem so far away anymore.

They’d come as far as the halfway point of the musky, rusting crypt when someone yelled something unintelligible, an incensed but wordless howl, from behind. Kang skidded to a stop and swiveled around.

A group Tarkata – he didn’t count how many – bearing down on them rapidly.

Kang didn’t think, only ran. Lao was right next to him, the others less than a step behind. They could still make it, as long as they got to the ledge. But the hope was quickly crushed as he saw three more Tarkata appear in the opening on it.

With their arm-blades unsheathed, the three jumped down in front of them, cutting of their escape and forcing them back. Outnumbered by 12 to 5 –Jax and his bad leg included – and surrounded, they huddled together, backs pressed against backs. From the corner of his eye, Kang could see Sonya pushing her gun into Jax’s hand, despite his protests.

One of the Tarkata, the biggest one, walked up to them and placed itself opposite Sonya.

“Yer not meant to be here!” it said in a voice that could only be likened to a malfunctioning engine.

“We _were_ leaving!” Sonya said, aggravation dripping from every word.

The Tarkata exchanged looks with each other, snickering.

“Not anymore, yer not,” the first one said.

Its arms rose with a clinking sound. It was a chime that could have been pleasant if not for the accompanying image of the Tarkatan’s metallic bones shifting beneath the skin and the blade ejecting from his flesh.

It took another step closer.

“We are participants in the tournament,” Lao said sharply, causing the Tarkatan to halt. “It’s against the rules to fight outside the arena.”

The Tarkatan remained stationary for a number of seconds, glaring at them as what few wheels there were turned viciously inside its head. Around them, its underlings started becoming restless, wriggling in place while their tiny eyes darted between the prey and their boss.

At last, the Tarkatan shook its head, grinning even bigger than before.

“No, not fight – only kill,” it said. The horde exulted its conclusion.

Kang took slow, even breaths and flexed his fingers as he readied himself. To his left, Lao elevated one hand to grip his razor-edged hat; to his right, Sonya slid her hand into one of her pockets.

“We’ll take ya to Shang Tsung when we’re done…”

“No,” Sonya said. “You won’t.”

She brought her hand to her mouth, opened her palm, and blew on it.

A cloud of pink, powdery substance drifted into the air. The Tarkata in front of her staggered back, coughing and rubbing their eyes. In an instant, Lao took ahold of his hat to slash at two of the underlings ahead of him. Kang gave the third two solid punches and a high kick to the chin that caused its teeth to clatter.

Behind him, Kang saw Johnny charge his hand with the green energy so it shook, then smashed it into a Tarkatan so it flew back and hit another one. Sonya grabbed the lapels of Jax’s shirt and shoved his back against the closest rock wall.

“You can’t exert yourself!” she said, gyrating to ward off an attacking Tarkatan by kicking it in the face.

Jax pressed his lips together, giving her a dour look.

“I will if you need me to,” he said as he cocked one of the guns.

Sonya was about to reply – vehemently – when a Tarkatan got behind her and punched her in the back. Going to stab her abdomen, she instead drove her shoulder into its face and kneed it in the gut, then flipped it over her shoulder.

Feeling one of them grab his own shoulder, Kang elbowed the Tarkatan, then kicked its shin and chest. Another came, swinging wildly. Kang deflected its arm, punched its head, twice, thrice, and ended with an uppercut. Then, two at once. Kang spurted to the closest one, vaulted into the air and landed on top of it. Rolling off and getting up, he punched the other, kicked its knee, and swept one leg around the Tarkatan’s to trip it. To finish it off, he swiveled to stop the first one from rising by kicking its head.

When neither got back up again, Kang took a moment to breathe and check on his friends.

Sonya had just tackled one Tarkatan to the ground, punching its face, followed by kicking it between the legs. Johnny had climbed one of the torture cabinets and was sending energy balls across the entire chamber. When three came too close he hurdled off it, causing it to crash on top of the three. Jax was still by the wall, but not defenseless; he warded off any assailant by either seizing their necks and chucking them away from him, whipping them with the butt of his guns, or simply shooting them when they got too close. All this and never once shifting the weight from his right leg to his left.

Finally, Lao.

He danced around one Tarkatan trying to punch him, grabbed it by its neck, spun around, and threw it into another incoming Tarkatan. As it tried got get up, he tossed his hat; it cut into the Tarkatan’s flesh as it soared around the room. A new one launched itself at him, but he dodged, punched its face, and kicked its knee. When it attempted to kick him, he caught its leg, turned around, then pulled it over his shoulder and stood so the Tarkatan tumbled down. Yet another came up behind him; he kicked its shin, ducked when it boxed at him, and punching its stomach so fast, the motion turned into a blur before Kang’s eyes. When his hat returned, he defeated his opponent with a final slice.

It did not get back to its feet.

Lao scanned his surroundings, before leaning forward to rest his hands on his thighs and pant heavily. After catching his breath and straightening up, he looked over at Kang, who smiled and gave him thumbs up. Lao grinned back, but then his expression froze.

“ _Kiddo, duck!_ ”

Kang barely flicked to the side to see Jax’s gun aimed in his direction. Instantly he hit the floor; the bullet hit the Tarkatan behind him in the throat – it sagged to the ground.

Jax slouched against the wall and engaged the safety of the gun, where light smoke was still trailing out the muzzle.

“You alright?” he asked.

Kang signaled with affirmation as he slowly sat up again. Lao hurried forth to help pull him to his feet, and fastidiously searched him for injuries even after Kang assured him he was okay.

“That’s the last one, right?” Johnny said.

“Yeah,” Jax said. “For the time being. They like to move in packs, I’ve noticed.”

Sonya brushed some stray tresses that had come loose during the fight, then marched up to Jax and brought one arm over her shoulder yet again.

“The last one’s we’ll see!” she said. “We’re leaving – now!”

There were no disagreements.

Johnny reached the ledge first, swiftly scaled the wall they went down earlier, and turned to help pull Jax up. Sonya followed, then Kang. He had just heaved himself over the rock shelf when a cry sounded from the other end of the crypt.

Another group of Tarkata – a much bigger one – had emerged from the third tunnel, and was charging towards them with roars and maniacal laughter.

“Oh, _enough of this!_ ” Sonya cried out.

Lao clambered up the wall; as soon as he was close enough, Sonya grabbed the neck of his shirt to yank him onto the ground.

And then they ran.

Down the long corridor, leaving the noise and torchlight behind. Running into and stumbling over stalagmites, scratching their skin when they accidentally bumped into walls in their panic, slipping at the shingly part which had suddenly become an uphill. Johnny was in the front, this time his entire body glowing green instead of just his hand, with Lao taking his place aiding Jax.

An uproar of rasping and rumbling screams, of howls and cackles echoed in the distance, at first so far off it seemed like it was from another world altogether. Then it drew nearer, and nearer…

“The fuckers are closing in!” Sonya said when they briefly slowed down by the narrower passageway. Kang silently worried that Jax wouldn’t fit in the tapered passage, the man was _that_ huge, but to both his relief and amazement, the Major managed to follow him through without getting stuck.

Sonya had just slithered out of the creak when they heard the screech of metal against stone approaching.

With no time to rest, they continued running, this time with Kang taking up the rear. Constantly did he look over his shoulder, waiting and preparing himself for when they’d inevitably catch up.

A cackle carried all the way to them. Kang realized he couldn’t wait for them to come into sight – it’d be _too late_ if he did!

He reduced his speed enough for him to turn around while sprinting, charged his hands, and threw two fireballs, for good measure, into the depths. After a moment, multiple shrieks of pain told him he hit his mark, and he picked up his pace.

“Jax, how many bullets you’ve got left?” Sonya asked.

The blare echoed ferociously behind them.

“I’ve used 14, I think,” he replied.

Ahead, Kang could see light, _real_ sunlight.

“Okay,” Sonya said. “Good. Get ready to use some more.”

Some thirty meters before the mouth of the cave, Sonya decelerated. Lao did too, giving her a questioning eye.

“Go on, get out!” she urged them as she and Jax positioned themselves in the middle of the tunnel.

Kang was ready to protest, but Lao took hold of his wrist and dragged him along.

Johnny was already waiting outside; sunglasses in his hand and not on his face for once. He wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt.

“Where are Sonya and Jax?”

“They have a plan,” Lao said.

The actor frowned skeptically, peering into the cave. Sonya and Jax were still standing there – Jax with both guns out and Sonya fiddling with something on her right wrist.

The Tarkatan horde bore down on them.

“How’s it going, Blade?” Jax asked.

Sonya cursed.

“I’ll need you to keep a few of them away,” she said.

Jax snickered. “Very well then.”

Kang’s heart jumped to his throat when the first Tarkatan came into view. Jax promptly gunned it down.

Another showed, and another fell. More and more came. Jax took down each and every one, but these were the only the beginning. What would he do when there were too many to aim at, or when he ran out of bullets?

“Done!”

As soon as Sonya yelled, Jax slowly hobbled backwards. She began moving too, leveling her right arm against the ceiling of the cave. A red beam discharged from her wrist, going straight into the rock.

There was a rumble. It reverberated all around them.

While the Tarkata stopped to look up, Sonya and Jax dashed out of the cave. They made it outside just as the ceiling collapsed, burying the Tarkata that had reached them, and blocking out the fortunate ones that hadn’t.

Kang stared at the pile of stones and boulders before him. He looked at Jax and Sonya exhaustedly dropping to the ground, then back to the cave once more.

“Did… You’ve had _that_ thing this _whole time?_ ” Johnny sputtered. “ _Why didn’t you use it?_ ”

Sonya glared up at him, teeth gritted. The nails of her already dirty fingers dug into the soil.

“It’s a prototype!” she said. “I’ve never used it before. And I didn’t want to create a cave-in with _us still inside!_ ”

Johnny quickly held up his hands in an apologetic gesture.

“Okay, okay, just wanted to know,” he said, clearing his throat. “It looked damn cool, by the by.”

Jax chuckled. Kang did too, until he turned his gaze to the sky and noticed how low the sun was standing. He gasped.

“We have to get back to the courtyard!” he exclaimed. “There might still be time for you!”

Sonya groaned. Jax knitted his brow in perplexity.

“What’s at the courtyard?” he asked.

Sonya pushed herself off the ground, dusting some sand off her knees as she stretched out one hand to her C.O.

“We’ll explain on the way,” she said, sighing.

* * *

When they arrived at the arena – filthy, aching, perspiring, and struggling for breath – there were actually people still there, watching as something small pierced something much bigger with an even larger weapon.

Nightwolf stood right at the back, and leisurely turned to look at them all when they wearily sunk to the ground, almost as if he was expecting them.

“Oh. There you are,” he said. “There are three matches left. Miss Blade has not been called yet.”

“What about Jax?” Kang asked, sitting doubled over and wheezing. “Jackson Briggs?”

Nightwolf opened his mouth to answer, when Shang Tsung’s harsh inflection beat him to it.

“Next match!” the sorcerer announced. “Jackson Briggs! Versus…”

Nightwolf inclined his head towards Kang, clasping his hands behind his back.

“Yes,” he said. “He has been called.”

Jax got to his feet, wobbling slightly. He considered the arena and his opponent, who had already stepped out onto it. He shambled forward.

“And everything’s allowed in this thing, right?” he mumbled.

“Pretty much,” Nightwolf said.

Jax nodded thoughtfully. Slowly, he limped out to his place on the stone field. His opponent, a small and lean man dressed in red robes, pulled an equally red lance from his back. It was unnecessarily flashy-looking, if you asked Kang.

The two fighters silently stared each other down.

Shang Tsung gave Jax a quick perusal, appearing pleased as he sat down.

“ _Fight!_ ”

The man with the lance emitted a battle cry, swung his weapon, and leaped forward with it hoisted above his head.

Jax pulled out his guns and kneecapped the man.

He fell down with a shriek, and writhed on the floor.

Everyone else was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The audience didn’t cheer or say anything at all. On the podium, Princess Kitana was holding one hand to her chest, staring wide-eyed at the scene. Her sister leaned forward so much she was sitting at the edge of her seat, looking on the verge of falling off. Despite her veil, you could tell her mouth hung open. Raiden was busy stuffing one of his fists into his mouth, in order not to start laughing. Shang Tsung was simply gawking.

“We done?” Jax boomed over the silence. He looked over to Shang Tsung.

The host seemed flabbergasted: mouth opening and closing, throat working, and then his mouth opening again without ever saying something.

“Good!” Jax said, before he limped back to his place in the crowd.

“Jax, my man,” Johnny said, speech a tad slurred, from the ground where he was lying flat on his back as the Major rejoined the group. “I might have to base a character off of you.”

Jax smiled slyly, holding out one of the guns to Sonya.

“Lieutenant,” he said. “I’m sorry to inform you I’ve depleted all of your bullets.”

Sonya smirked as she put the gun down her holster. She ripped open her vest and dumped it in a heap on the ground.

“That won’t be a problem,” she said and began heading for the arena just as Shang Tsung found his vocal cords again and called out her name.

* * *

Kang breathed in the cool evening air.

He had thought that he would only want to spend the remainder of the night doing nothing, but after bathing for more than an hour to scrub off all the muck he found himself bizarrely restless. So, he redressed, tiptoed past Lao who was deeply slumbering on the makeshift bed in Kang’s chambers, and gone to take a late promenade. Before long, he ended up in the botanical garden encompassing Shang Tsung’s castle, for while the castle was strictly off-limits, the backyard wasn’t. Based on what Raiden had told him, Kang suspected that Shang Tsung simply couldn’t bring himself _not_ to show off something so beautiful that belonged to him.

As he walked, listening to the birds sing and inhaling all the sweet scents, his mind wandered to a darker place than he would have liked.

The last match of the first round.

The moment where the reigning champion – Goro, prince of the Shokan – had at long last made his presence among them known.

It was cleverly done. Now, the sight of the two-and-a-half-meter tall beast, with his cold, black eyes and four massive arms would unquestionably be the last thing every contestant saw before them as they fell asleep. The memory of him effortlessly snatching the small human female of the ground as she was tottering around his legs with his lower set of arms, then crushing her skull with his upper set, and finally slamming the already lifeless body into the ground, most likely shattering every additional bone in her…

Its message was clear. Outworld would win, because no human could.

Kang shuddered.

Perhaps his reason for going out wasn’t so strange after all. He needed something virtuous to take his mind of the violence. Hopefully, the calm chirping and the various intense fragrances would do the trick.

He was strolling near the castle wall, taking a closer look at a more modest blossom with gentler colors blended together with streaks of white, when he rounded a hefty rhododendron bush and nearly collided with her.

Instinctively, they grasped each other’s arms so they wouldn’t fall. Looking up, Kang lost his breath, forgot how to do it, as he recognized that it was Princess Kitana he had almost run over.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, those lovely, brown eyes shimmering before him. “Good Evening!”

Kang swallowed several times, thoughts racing and mouth wanting to speak, but his tongue was made of lead, and not one word could be uttered the way it should.

“Uh… Guh… Goo-good evening!” he said as he tripped over his tongue.

The Princess giggled. It was the most adorable sound he’d ever heard, and it was truly a shame that he only heard it due to his own ineptness. With his face burning up and his belly tingling like something was trying to burst out of it, he steered his gaze downward. He then noticed that they were still touching, his hand on her elbow and her fingers brushing his upper arm.

Startled, he instantaneously let go and took a step back. The Princess at first appeared surprised by his sudden movement, but quickly understood. Calmly, she clasped her hands in front of her, intertwining her fingers.

“I-I’m sorry,” Kang mumbled.

She shook her head.

“It is all right,” she said. “Please, do not apologize.”

The silence emerged again. Kang shuffled his feet back and forth, seeking for anything to say, but his tongue once more become heavy lead. The realization that he was blocking her way hit, and he hastily stepped to the side, indicating for her to pass.

She giggled again. “Thank you…”

He thought she would leave, but instead she turned back to look at him, a faint blush spreading over her cheeks.

“I… You… You fought well today,” she said, her voice like a melody sung from above.

“Th-thanks,” he said, getting even redder when her cheeks rose and her eyes started glittering again.

“I was very happy when you spared that man,” she said.

Kang brought his hand up to rub his neck and awkwardly cleared his throat.

“Aah, well, it’s just-just, not right. To… you know.”

The Princess nodded with enthusiasm.

“Yes, I think so too,” she said, brushing at her bangs the same way she’d done the day before. There was still a rosy tint to the slim patch of visible skin beneath her eyes. It was so striking it filled Kang with determination; he somehow managed to gather all his courage and continuously hold her gaze. Her eyes weren’t just brown, as he previously thought. There were small specks of other colors in them as well, mostly different shades of gold. Beautiful…

They lingered like that for what Kang thought, or perhaps just hoped, was ages. Neither of them said anything again, but for some reason simply standing and smiling at one another almost seemed like a conversation in itself.

Regrettably, the Princess remembered herself after a few minutes. After giving the impression of waking up from a daydream, she glanced at the castle.

“I have to go,” she said, tone apologetic.

“Oh… Yes, of course,” Kang said as he struggled to mask the disappointment.

“Perhaps we will have the opportunity to speak again,” she offered as she slowly walked backwards, not letting go of his eyes.

“Y-yeah, perhaps,” he said, his next breath a gulp for air.

Her cheeks rose, and, right before disappearing from his line of vision around the castle’s corner, brought up her hand and waved.

Kang had absolutely no idea how long he stood in one place, face competing with the flowers’ bright colors, after she’d left. Kang heaved a blissful sigh. He pressed his palms to his cheeks – they were scorching! However, he also couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in such high spirits.

Putting his hands behind his head, he sauntered forth, sporadically gazing up at the cloudless, star filled sky as he walked back to his and Lao’s chambers.

* * *

Despite the fact that she knew no one would be sleeping yet, Kitana opened the door to her little sister’s bedroom as carefully as she could.

Inside the lavishly decorated room, Mileena laid sprawled out on her bed as she stared up at the ceiling, her eyes dull and discontent. Her veil was discarded onto the vanity, so you could see the entirety of her mouth, with the corners of it ending somewhere on her cheekbones and the – Kitana hated saying it even in her own head, but it was difficult denying it – unnatural tusks that lined her cheeks.

The scene warmed Kitana’s heart; her sister might feel tedious, but she also felt comfortable. Of course, the reason for this feeling of security was that no one but the sisters and Jade – who sat opposite the bed in an armchair, seemingly engrossed in her book and unmindful of her surroundings – were allowed inside Mileena’s bedroom at all times. But simply the fact that Mileena didn’t, and never had, showed any fear of baring her face to Kitana meant a lot.

Quite frankly, purely the thought of feeling any kind of contempt or revulsion for her sister’s appearance caused Kitana’s stomach to churn. The same opinions from a third party – fictional as they might be – caused her blood to boil.

Right as the subdued thud of the door closing came to be, Mileena hauled herself into a sitting position. Her hair was chaotic, as always. Kitana couldn’t fathom how all those knots could develop in one day, sometimes merely minutes after having been brushed out. It could be because of her sister’s insistence to wear it loose close to every single day, but even so…

“Finally!” Mileena cried out. “You’re back! Ugh, I think I’m _dying_! This place is. So. Boring!”

With a groan, she went limp, collapsing onto the bed.

Kitana glimpsed at Jade. The bodyguard didn’t react, except for a small quirking of her lip as she turned a page. Shaking her head, Kitana removed her own veil and placed it on the vanity, picking up Mileena’s hairbrush instead.

“You were the one who insisted on coming,” she reminded her whilst taking a seat on the bed.

Mileena sighed, swung her legs over the edge, and sat up again with her back turned against Kitana.

“To watch the _matches_ , yes,” she said. “Not listen to Shang Tsung’s drivel.”

“Hush,” Kitana said, although she did secretly agree, and decided it best to change the subject. “How is Reptile doing?”

“He is up and running, and doing his job,” Jade said. “There is no reason to worry.”

“Exactly. After all…” Mileena jerked her hair out of Kitana’s grip so she could twist her head to look at Kitana, a mischievous grin plastered on her face. “’ _He **cannot** die prior to the revival of his race!’_ ” she said, her delivery a near perfect impersonation of Reptile’s gravelly speech.

Kitana clamped her teeth together, not wishing to laugh at the Saurian’s expense, no matter how spot-on the imitation was. Jade chuckling over in her chair did not simplify things.

“Mileena!” she said, voice trembling from stifling her amusement. “Don’t be cruel!”

“I am not cruel!” Mileena protested as Kitana forcibly made her face forward again so she would reach the hair on the back of her sister’s head. “Ordering some arrogant Earthrealmer to kill one of your oldest and most loyal servants is cruel,” she added by way of a mutter.

Kitana’s hands stopped working. Biting her lip, she lowered her gaze and traced the beautiful embroidery patterns on Mileena’s duvet. To the side, Jade’s book lay forgotten in her lap as the older woman leaned her cheek on her fist and stared out the window.

“It is all according to the rules,” Kitana said at last.

“The rules are asinine.”

Having no rebuttal for that, Kitana opted to simply continue brushing her sister’s hair without speaking.

In all honesty, she had been afraid, so afraid, that the short sentences she and Reptile exchanged the previous morning would be the last they ever spoke to each other. What if he had actually been killed? What would she have done then?

She thanked the heavens that Jade would not be taking part in this tournament. Losing her wouldn’t be simply devastating – Kitana had no words for the sorrow she would feel if Jade ever left them. The only consolation was that, knowing her friend, Jade’s pride wouldn’t allow herself to die in such a manner.

Mileena wriggled a little to peek at Kitana from the corner of her eye.

“Kitana,” she said, pulling her out of her dark thoughts.

“Yes?”

“Your walk was more than twice as lengthy as it normally is. What took you so long?”

The flush immediately stained Kitana’s face. Putting the brush aside on the bed, she laid her hands in her lap and shifted positions, causing Mileena to turn around completely, eyes widening at the sight of her older sister’s embarrassment.

“I… stopped to speak with someone…” she said.

“Oooh, is that so?” Mileena chanted teasingly. “Who?”

Kitana shook her head in an attempt to be dismissive.

“One of the fighters. From Earthrealm.”

“Earthrealm?” Mileena screwed up her face. “Why would you speak to someone from Earthrealm?”

“He is very sweet!”

“Mmhmm… But is he cute?”

Mileena beamed, playfully tilting her head excessively to one side and leaning forward to flutter her lashes at Kitana, whose only counter was a coy giggle.

“Is it the one you waved at yesterday?” Jade asked.

Kitana gasped and sent her mortified look. Mileena’s jaw dropped open.

“You saw that?”

“You _waved_ at him?”

“I stood right behind you, Kitana,” Jade said with a smirk and a cocked eyebrow. “So it is him, hm?”

Kitana was certain it was a conclusion rather than a question; the shade of her face surely left no doubts. Mileena grabbed both of Kitana’s shoulders and gave her a pointed look.

“You _waved_ at him?”

“No… I waved _back._ ”

Mileena gaped.

“Because he waved first?”

Mileena inhaled. Deeply. Then she jumped off the bed, and began marching to and fro as she either threw her arms up in the air or tore at her own hair, almost certainly creating new knots as she did so, all whilst speaking so loudly it wouldn’t surprise Kitana if the guards below the window heard her.

“ _He_ waved at _you?_ He _actually_ waved at you? _What? Who does that?_ And why didn’t I know about this until now?”

She flopped down onto the bed, wrapping her arms tightly around Kitana.

“You must show him to me!”

“What?”

“If he can charm someone by _waving_ , he has to be special! I must see him!”

Kitana stared at her sister. Mileena’s countenance was nothing but serious.

All of a sudden, Jade laughed. Not a quiet or restrained chuckle, but a genuine, uninhibited laugh. It was infrequent, and very infectious. Kitana snorted through her nose, then buried her face in her hands and laughed until she could no longer breathe, instead panting and puffing between the fits.

“Why are you laughing?” Mileena asked, giggling as she did so. “You are telling the truth, right? All this did happen?”

With a light tittering she scuttled over to Jade, who had begun shedding tears that were hastily wiped away. Mileena clung to her arm, tugging at it excitedly.

“Jade, tell me what he looks like! And did he actually wave at her, Jade? Jade!”

Kitana didn’t hear any other pleas for answers, or eventual responses; she doubled over, clutching her stomach, and sunk into the bedding to bury her blushing face amongst Mileena’s pillows.


	4. With The Best Intents And Purposes

**Chapter 4 -** **With The Best Intents And Purposes, or**

**A Gradual Fall Into Sheer Sensation**

 

One of the perks of entering the second round was that, from now on, the matches wouldn’t be decided at random anymore, but predetermined and scheduled for everybody to see. And as the number of fighters had been cut in half, it would only take one day instead of two.

Kang was slated for the last fight before the intermission. That meant he didn’t have to be by the arena until at least another hour; however, Sonya was fighting in the second match. So, everyone had gathered to watch and cheer her on – except for Jax whom Sonya insisted (and Raiden ordered) should rest in his room until his own turn in the ring came, right after the break.

The first fight was all set to commence. Two men – one tall and lean with shaggy, black hair, the other wearing a cowl and mask, power radiating off him – stood ready. Shang Tsung commanded the second round of the tournament to start, and the first man was forced to hurdle into the air in order to avoid the blast of ice that the second man shot from his hand. As the first man landed, the second slid forward on a trail of ice and proceeded to deliver two quick punches to the first man’s stomach and face, followed by kicks to his legs and abdomen. Lastly, the masked man created a large sword of ice that he slashed across his opponent’s frame.

Johnny emitted a drawn-out whistle. Lao hummed in agreement. Sonya’s expression was mostly unreadable, though the corner of her mouth did twitch somewhat.

“So, do you guys know anything about this ‘Sektor’ I’m going up against?” she asked them a little bit too indifferently.

“He’s from the Lin Kuei,” Lao said.

She gave him an expecting look. After three seconds of nothing new being said, she inclined her head and widened her eyes pointedly.

“Which is…?”

“Elite assassins.”

“He’s from the same organization as that guy,” Kang said whilst indicated to the blue clad Lin Kuei on the arena.

Sonya nodded pensively. “Outworld assassins, huh? Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Oh no, not Outworld!” Kang said, causing Sonya to turn to him with a puzzled frown. “They’re from Earthrealm.”

“Why the _hell_ would humans fight for Outworld?” she asked, her intonation notably irritable.

Just then, after the Lin Kuei had completely frozen the other man, he spun around and landed a kick so powerful it separated his opponent’s head from the neck. It slowly rolled onward, off the arena, and stopped by some of the audience members’ feet.

There was a moment of silence before Nightwolf peered down at Sonya.

“Why don’t you ask them.”

Sonya’s glower right before she stepped out onto the stone ring spoke volumes.

The Lin Kuei she would be fighting wore a similar uniform, the same cowl, mask, and armor, but in red and black. He was also obviously shorter than both the previous assassin and Sonya. After some inspection, Kang noticed, with only a slight amount of schadenfreude, that the man could possibly be shorter than _him_ too!

Sonya adjusted the equipment on her right arm, and looked up to meet Sektor’s gaze. There was something about it. The blue Lin Kuei – Sub-Zero, Shang Tsung had called him – had been impassive. Fighting and killing another human was nothing to him. Even if it was, his eyes betrayed none of it. It had made him menacing, but Kang thought it was nothing compared to Sektor. His body and stance was equally restrained as his colleague’s, but his eyes told a different story. They were eager – fervent, even – yet callous. Sub-Zero could have been thinking absolutely anything while he fought and Kang would’ve been none the wiser, but with Sektor it was apparent that he would enjoy this.

“ _Fight!_ ”

An inferno shot out from Sektor’s forearm guards; Sonya barely had time to avoid it. She threw herself on the ground, rolled and got to her feet again as fast as she could, the flames following her every move. She was leaping from pillar to post, out on the flanks where the audience was standing and then back into the arena. It was impossible for her to get closer than a few meters – Sektor used the fire to keep her at a precise distance all the time.

Sonya stumbled; she put her foot down wrong and lost her balance. The fire came dangerously close, looked to touch her head, but she flung herself down to evade it. It ended up merely singeing the tips of her ponytail.

She was standing on one knee, panting, face flushed and the ends of her hair smoldering. However, her eyes were focused and her muscles tense and ready to move again.

Sektor pointed the flamethrower at her, but nothing happened.

The Lin Kuei knitted his brows as he brought his wrist up to analyze it. After a brief moment, he shook his head and heaved an exasperated sigh. While he did, Sonya had gotten up, about to move towards him, but stopped when a small projectile shot out from Sektor’s guard and he jumped back.

Kang couldn’t see what it was, but luckily Sonya could – she sprung out of the way just in time for the projectile to zoom past her. It crashed into a pillar behind her with a loud blast.

She lay on her stomach, face down on the stone. She pushed herself up on shaky arms. Sektor began heading for her, using a leisurely pace. He tightened his hand into a fist; then loosened it again. Bolts of electricity were forming in it with a sizzling sound.

“Come on, Supergirl, get up…” Johnny mumbled as Sektor got closer to her. He was about two meters away when the red beam hit his thorax, knocking him back.

Sonya stood up, right arm with the laser directed at her opponent the whole time, hitting him over and over again while walking to him. He seemed to deflate some with each hit; he gasped and glowered as he reached out his forearm guard. Sonya rushed forward, driving her shoulder into his face, between the eyes where the mask didn’t protect him. He staggered; she kneed him in the gut and kicked his chin. She attempted to punch him, but he blocked and elbowed her in the rib cage. He snatched her arm, twisting it, then tried to trip her. She got loose before he could, spun around and kicked him in the temple. She punched him twice, kicked him, and did a handstand. She propelled herself off the ground whilst kicking Sektor in the chest, launching both of them into the air. They flew up, up, up; after numerous quick kicks, she grabbed his torso with her legs, turned around in the air, and slammed him into the ground below.

Sonya landed on her feet, swaying a little bit before rising in front of the unconscious assassin. She smiled.

“Oh _yeah_ , that’s what I’m talking about!”

Johnny began cheering, whistling, and applauding. It didn’t take long before half of the audience joined him, some of them surrounding Sonya to shower her with praise. Her head darted back and forth, her eyes blinking in confusion.

“What are they on about?” she whispered.

“You beat a Lin Kuei!” Kang said, laughing. He felt like hugging her, but he was pretty sure she wouldn’t appreciate that.

Sonya looked over the crowd again. She snorted quietly, locked her jaw and pressed her lips together, but nevertheless couldn’t stop the corners of her mouth from curling upwards.

* * *

Hours later, after Kang also had fought – and won – the crowd dispersed like it did the previous day, and Raiden got off the podium to meet up with them.

“Good beginning for today. Well done, you two,” he said to Sonya and Kang. She accepted the compliment graciously, but you could tell she was still feeling really proud of herself. Kang, on the other hand, didn’t even try to hide that he was beaming with satisfaction. Lao ruffled his hair.

“Now,” Raiden said. “We must to prepare Jax, and you,” he looked at Nightwolf, “will be fighting Scorpion.”

Nightwolf drew himself up to level his gaze with Raiden’s. He crossed his arms.

“I know.”

“You need to be vigilant. It will-”

“I _know._ ”

Nightwolf promptly turned around and walked to the dining area. Raiden sighed as they watched him leave.

“Soo… Who’s the scorpion?” Johnny asked.

“Just ‘Scorpion’,” Raiden said. “He’s a wraith.”

“A ghost?!”

“No. A wraith is… an undead.”

“A zombie then,” Sonya said dryly.

“No!” Raiden scowled at the both of them. “It’s when a mortal is reborn in the Netherrealm due to the soul’s regrets preventing it from moving on.”

“Wait, you’ll be reborn if you die with regrets?” Johnny asked, his expression making Kang imagine cogwheels in his head turning in worrying directions.

“Of course not,” Raiden said with a scoff. “Everyone dies with some sort of regrets. It’s when they are so potent that the soul cannot bring itself to pass on before the regrets have been taken care of that a wraith is born.”

“So they’re strong?”

Raiden’s face grew solemn. The lines around his mouth deepened and a crease formed between his eyes.

“Dragging yourself out of the Netherrealm isn’t a simple task,” he said. “Only the most resolute succeed. The rest transform into monstrous creatures; they forget themselves and their regrets. They become lost souls.” He tilted his chin up, turned his white eyes to the sky, and clasped his hands behind his back. “Yes, they are very strong. Pray you do not come between one and its goal.”

A few seconds passed, then Johnny shuddered. “Wow, forget I asked…”

Sonya rolled her eyes.

“Fascinating,” she said, starting to back away. “I’ll go get Jax. Meet you by the pillars?”

Raiden concurred. Johnny started to follow her back to the bedchambers.

“I’ll go with you!” he said.

“I don’t need-”

“Hey, Jax is a big guy and you still look beat. We have to make sure he doesn’t injure himself further, right?” he said, smiling while walking past her. Sonya’s face turned blank.

“Right…” she said as she went after him.

Raiden in turn wasted no time standing around. He began moving towards the food, indicating for Kang and Lao to follow. Lao fell into place by the god’s left side.

“Lord Raiden, how big do you think our chances of victory truly are?”

“Difficult to say,” he mused. “Every tournament I have expressed the most hope in seems to bring the greatest losses, but…”

“Will you _shut up!_ ”

Kang was walking on Raiden’s right, listening to the reply, but the loud voice from far to the side caught his ear, causing his attention to fade and his steps to slow down.

The Lin Kuei assassins were standing by the gates leading out from the courtyard. Sektor appeared to be in a heated argument with his third and last comrade – a sturdy, dark-skinned man in a yellow uniform. Sub-Zero stood next to them, silent and ostensibly apathetic to the squabble.

“I’m tired of you _and_ your opinions! Shut up!”

Sektor sneered at the other assassin, speaking in a perfect and rapid Mandarin. His companion crossed his arms over his chest. He looked to be calmer, but his movements were taut.

“I am just saying that-”

“I _know_ what you’re saying, Cyrax. I don’t care!”

The Lin Kuei named Cyrax brought one hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Sektor, please. Listen; it-” he said, but stopped himself mid-sentence when Sektor laughed. It was a low, chilling sound. Bottomless.

“Know, Cyrax, that I long for the commencement of the Initiative,” he said. “To finally be free of whatever useless thoughts and beliefs of yours will be wonderful!”

Cyrax removed his hand from his face to stare at Sektor. It was obvious the smaller man was smirking behind his mask. What could be seen of Cyrax’s face tightened in anger and contempt. He shook his head before storming off the courtyard.

Sektor scoffed and left in direction of the combatant’s lodgings. Sub-Zero remained for a while, contemplating the pathway Cyrax had taken before leaving as well.

Kang lingered where he had stopped to listen, brows furrowed. He probably should have felt more shame for not ignoring exchange the moment he begun overhearing it, but he was too intrigued. He bit into his cheek as he considered what they’d said.

_Initiative… What did they mean by that?_

“Kang!”

“Huh?”

His head twisted forward; he discovered that Raiden and Lao had by now gotten over thirty paces ahead. Lao gave him an amused look.

“Are you planning to stand there all day?” he asked.

Kang scurried after them.

“No!” he said. “Sorry, sorry, I’m coming!”

They went on to gather what food they wanted, then proceeded to the stone terrace that overlooked the front of the garden. Nightwolf was already there, sitting at the border whilst leaning against a corner pillar, plate empty and eyes closed. Soon after they joined him, the other three arrived. Jax looked much better today, but he was still hobbling and needed to have one hand on Johnny’s shoulder to steady himself.

“How are you feeling?” Kang asked after everyone greeted one another and sat down.

“Better, thank you,” Jax said.

“But not good enough,” Sonya said. She examined Jax’s bad ankle with a scowl. “It can take weeks for a dislocation to heal.”

“I’ll be fine,” Jax said, calmly biting into a piece of seasoned fowl. “Don’t worry, Lieutenant.”

“If you overexert yourself now you might not be able to use that foot later!”

“Yeah, but if he doesn’t fight today there might not _be_ a later,” Johnny said.

Sonya sent him a glare, seemingly to be on the verge of lashing out at him when Jax cleared his throat.

“I will be fine,” he said with emphasis. “End of discussion.”

Sonya clamped her teeth so tightly it must have hurt. She took the bread off her plate and tore it in half, stiffing the smaller chunk into her mouth and turned her head to stare at the garden.

The atmosphere hung heavily around them. Kang was certain he had experienced more disagreements during these three days on the island than he had his whole life in the monastery.

“Jax,” Lao suddenly said. “Has Sonya told you about her match?”

Jax’s face instantly perked up.

“Only that she won,” he said as he looked over at his colleague, who stubbornly kept her eyes on a copse of poplars.

“She beat a Lin Kuei!” Kang said. It could be repeated a thousand more times and it still wouldn’t be enough, in his opinion.

Jax looked at him in the same manner Sonya had done with Lao, an unspoken inquiry about what the Lin Kuei was present in his eyes. They quickly enlightened him.

“If a body turns up and there are neither any clues nor real signs of it being a murder – other than the cause of death – it’s most likely the work of a Lin Kuei agent,” Lao said, wrapping up the explanation.

“I see…” Jax said. ”That is impressive.”

“Everybody keeps saying that.” Sonya, whose mood seemed to have brightened, turned from the garden with a shrug. “He wasn’t that tough,” she said, bringing her cup to her lips to sip the sweetened liquid. “It was the fucking fire that made things difficult!”

“But it _looked_ awesome!” Johnny said. “When you grabbed him in the air, and then he smashed into the ground…” He leaned back whilst snickering to himself. “Awesome.”

Sonya raised her chin and clamped her mouth shut, which to Kang had become a telltale sign that she was making an effort to keep herself from smiling.

“Okay, that’s enough. There’s more interesting things to talk about,” she said.

Everyone became quiet for a moment. Then Lao chuckled.

“You want to know what Kang did last night?” he asked.

Kang couldn’t stop the tiny gasp from escaping. His head whirled in Lao’s direction, inaudibly begging for him not to say anything else. It only made his cousin’s eyes twinkle with even more mischief than before.

“Ooh, yes!” Johnny looked between the cousins with interest.

“Sure,” Sonya said cautiously.

Lao’s eyes thinned into creases.

“You see, he woke me up in the middle of the night after he’d been out taking a walk…”

“Where nothing happened!” Kang cut in.

“…he was staggering around in a stupor and stepped on me…”

“It was an accident! And I wasn’t!”

“…so I asked him what he was doing, and can you guess?”

“ _It was nothing!_ ”

“He’d been in the garden…” Lao made a prolonged pause, looking over at Kang with a maddening grin, “…where he’d been talking _to Princess Kitana!_ ”

Raiden choked on his drink. Sonya stopped in motion as she was about to take a bite out of a peach. Johnny whistled and rubbed his hands together. Jax’s eyes widened and he changed position to lean forward. Even Nightwolf took an active interest in the gossip by turning to look at them.

Kang was just about to burn up. He drew up his knees and leaned his forehead against them, his hair draping around his face and obscuring it from sight.

“I’m not sure what they talked about,” Lao said (Kang could _hear_ him smirking). “But judging by his behavior, it must have been something pleasant.”

Johnny started laughing.

“You dog!” he said. “Well, can’t blame ya. She’s a pretty little thing. Bit too young though.”

“Actually,” Raiden said, voice croaky after the coughing-fit, “Outworlders have longer lifespans than humans. She is more than a few thousand years old.”

Johnny hummed. “A bit too _old_ , then.”

Kang shifted slightly to glimpse at the people he called friends. They were all either simpering or sending him expecting looks. It wasn’t _that_ interesting…

“We just bumped into each other,” he muttered. The warmth spread down to his neck. “Nothing else.”

“But what did you talk about?” Sonya asked, sounding strangely invested in the answer.

“Nothing!” Kang said, a small whine creeping in at the end. “Some about the tournament, and then… nothing!”

“In other words,” Nightwolf unexpectedly spoke up, “Both of you became tongue-tied.”

Kang’s blush intensified at the older man’s words; he dove back into his hiding place. Immediately the others began cackling at his expense.

Someone – he suspected it was Lao – slung their arms around him and chuckled close to his ear. Kang wanted to shove him away and pretend he was mad, but it would be difficult since he was absolutely positive that, whenever he’d look up, he’d start laughing too.

* * *

The group stayed on the terrace, eating and talking (though thankfully not about Princess Kitana), until there was roughly half an hour left until the matches would begin again and Jax would fight. As they were entering the courtyard, Kang excused himself, wanting to slink away for some peace and quiet before they were to assemble by the arena.

He left through the gates and took the path to the beaches, thinking of going to the pond and the Shrine. However, halfway down a gust of wind swirled past him, rustling the leaves, causing him to notice a mostly overgrown trail that went straight into a bush. Curiosity piqued, he instead chose to investigate where it led.

Behind the hedge – which was a lot thinner than it looked – was a large area of flat, grassy terrain that ended with a precipice where the sea continued into the horizon. And it wasn’t empty.

A figure dressed in black and yellow stood near the edge, looking out over the scenery. Kang lingered by the bushes, trying to decide whether he should continue onward or not, when the person turned around and looked at him, causing him to start.

It was Cyrax, the third Lin Kuei. He had taken off his cowl and mask, uncovering short dreadlocks that framed his face as well as a precisely trimmed goatee. Kang was actually a bit surprised – he looked much younger than he sounded, maybe thirty or so.

They stared at each other for a couple of seconds. Cyrax never blinked. Kang gulped; his hands and neck became damp. He was just going to retreat back into the shrubs when the assassin took a step to the side, seemingly making place for him on the rim. Kang dithered some more; then he carefully trod forward.

The crag was steep, but not as tall as he first thought. Still, it would be a long fall to the water surface.

Kang cast Cyrax a quick look.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you,” he said.

“It’s all right.”

“I can leave if you want.”

The corners of the Lin Kuei’s mouth tugged upward.

“Not my island.”

There were no clouds in the sky, only birds squawking in the distance as they flew into the sun. Below, the waves crashed against the rocks, foam spraying upwards and stacking against the wall. Around them the wind repeatedly got caught in their hair and clothes as it zoomed past. The grass rustled. The birds sang. The sea surged with a hushed murmur. When he closed his eyes, Kang was awed by nature’s voice, and when he opened them he was blinded by the bright, rippling water.

“Nice view.”

“Yes.”

Kang chewed on his lip. He didn’t know why he was attempting to make conversation. Generally, he didn’t mind silence (and if he was looking to talk he’d have stayed with the others), but right now it made him uncomfortable. He rummaged through his head, trying to come up with a topic, but the only thing he could think of was that word Sektor used previously.

The “Initiative”.

It could be anything, absolutely anything, and Kang found himself bursting to know what.

_So why don’t you ask?_

Nightwolf had obviously been sarcastic when he told Sonya that, but perhaps he’d had a point. The only way to find out would be to ask a Lin Kuei, and what better opportunity was there? Of course, there also wasn’t a better opportunity to anger a Lin Kuei and be killed without any other person knowing.

Kang grimaced. That’s right – stop it. This was a bad idea. He should just forget about it, smother his curiosity, and not say anything else, at all.

“What’s the ‘Initiative’?”

_Oh, for heaven’s sake…_

“Pardon?”

After a prolonged stillness where he gazed out over the glittering ocean in an almost trancelike state, Cyrax flinched back to life and stared at Kang with huge eyes. It was a bit odd, if truth be told. You didn’t expect to witness a masked killer look so shocked.

“Um, your friend mentioned something about an ‘Initiative’ before?” Kang fidgeted on the spot. “I didn’t mean to pry, but you were talking kinda loud-”

“It’s Lin Kuei business.”

His reply was curt, but told the monk everything he needed to know. Cyrax returned to looking at the sea, with a frown this time. Kang did the same, mumbling a virtually inaudible “ _Oh_ ” as answer.

The mood became strained, but not as strained as Cyrax. His posture was rigid, he kept clenching and unclenching his jaw, and simply appeared restless whilst he glowered at nothing in particular. Kang shuffled his feet. Perhaps it was best to go now, or-

“The Grand Master, our leader, has decided to take the clan in a new direction.”

Kang nearly jumped into the air. He assumed the exchange to have ended. If he’d expected the other man to do something, it’d be leaving in a huff, not continue talking.

“Oh?” he said once more. “And you don’t agree with this?”

Cyrax quieted again. With his face screwed up in displeasure he looked down at his feet, rubbing his neck.

“It’s not a simple matter. There will be benefits, but it’ll also be restrictive, possibly even destructive! And it will violate the values that we’ve had since the creation of the Lin Kuei. I am…” He paused to take a breath. “…uncertain about my stance.”

Kang raised a brow whilst folding his arms.

“You don’t _seem_ very uncertain,” he said.

Cyrax sighed, his features grew older. There was a hint of dejection in his tone as he spoke.

“I must show respect to the ways of the clan. I have sworn eternal loyalty to the Grand Master.”

“Isn’t that impossible?”

“What?”

The Lin Kuei blinked, noticeably bemused. Kang wetted his lips and shuffled some more, hunching over a little as he tried to explain himself.

“You need to respect and follow the clan, _and_ be loyal to your leader?” he asked.

“Yes.” Cyrax’s brow knitted in confusion.

“But your leader is going _against_ the clan, and if you follow him you will too,” Kang said, waving his hands around in nonsensical gestures to strengthen his reasoning. “You-you can’t do _both_.”

Cyrax stared at Kang again, without saying anything. Then he groaned faintly, turning back to sea whilst pressing the palm of his hand to his face.

“What is this?” he said. “I am being lectured by an outsider…”

Kang forced an awkward cough and averted his eyes to the ground.

“I, ehm, didn’t mean to… be insolent, but…” he mumbled, but cut himself short when Cyrax started sniggering. He brought his hand down to watch Kang in a rather mischievous manner.

“I’m joking,” he said with a smile, instantly looking young again. “You make a good argument.”

Kang cautiously returned it. He realized, out of the blue, that he still didn’t know what the Initiative truly was, but after hearing Cyrax’s description and witnessing his distress, maybe he was better off not knowing.

Cyrax looked at the sky, using one hand to shadow his eyes.

“It’s almost three o’clock,” he said.

Kang squinted up in the same direction, quickly understanding that they were observing the sun. Cyrax pulled up his cowl and fastened the mask, then they proceeded to accompany each other back to the courtyard and the arena, where the second round was minutes away from resuming. As they were about to part and rejoin their respective groups, Cyrax made a slight bow.

“I wish you further luck, Liu Kang,” he said.

Kang put his palms together as he bowed back.

“And I to you.”

He hoped he and Cyrax wouldn’t meet again in the ring. Not for the reason that they were both from Earthrealm, or the fact that Cyrax was Lin Kuei, but simply because Kang didn’t want to fight him. Perhaps it wasn’t wise to take a liking to another person so quickly, but it couldn’t be helped.

Kang zigzagged in the crowd, careful not to accidentally step on someone’s foot, and squeezed himself in between Johnny and Lao.

“There you are!” the actor said. “Where’ve you been?”

“Here and there…” Kang replied. “I found a nice outlook.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mm. How’s Jax?”

“Still in pain – despite his own claims,” Lao said.

Kang studied the arena. Jax was positioned on one end, the toes of his left boot scraping the ground. On the other end stood Baraka. He was smaller than Jax – in stature, and only by half a head.

“If Fangtooth is smart, he’ll use the injury to his advantage,” Johnny said and received an elbow to the ribs courtesy of Sonya, of course.

Kang wiped his hands off on his pants, praying Baraka wasn’t smart. The other Tarkata hadn’t been; why would this one be any different?

“ _Fight!_ ”

With that sickeningly pleasant clinking, Baraka unsheathed his blades and charged at Jax, attempting to stab his head and thorax. Jax dodged, pulling a huge knife from his belt. He caught Baraka’s wrist in his hand, and stopped the other blade with his knife. There was a short struggle. Baraka trashed around to break away from both Jax’s iron grip and the knife’s serration. (He tried kicking at the legs, but Jax shoved him off, after which he hobbled a step back. Baraka snarled and attacked again. Jax ducked for one blade, deflected the other with his weapon, avoided one, deflected one…

Then, a shrill clang and a clatter. Baraka had sawed the knife in half, separating the edge from the haft. He snickered, until Jax threw the handle at him. It bounced off his head. Baraka grunted, taking a step forward. Jax lunged, punched the Tarkatan’s flat nose, his temple, and finished with an uppercut. Baraka let out a roar and stampeded forth. He swung wildly, and Jax threw himself out of the way. He rolled ahead to the other end of the arena. Baraka pursued, but as soon as he got close Jax hurled himself to the side again and tumbled away. He got up at his own end, wavering a bit. Baraka screamed gibberish and followed; Jax evaded by tumbling to the side.

It was almost like a farce, Jax tumbling from side to side and Baraka endlessly chasing him. Some of the audience members had begun to laugh. On the podium, Shang Tsung was furiously gnashing his teeth together. Raiden was monitoring the hunt with palpable delight. Princess Kitana was trembling, forcing her posture straight. Princess Mileena was applauding and shouting at them to go faster.

After several minutes of the chase Jax stood up and wobbled, and suddenly Baraka caught up. He hit him, blades retracted, in the stomach, the head, then stomped on his left foot.

Jax screamed, an unbearably loud howl. Something dangerous flared in Baraka’s beady eyes.

He punched Jax again, kicked his bad leg, and swept his blades across Jax’s face, leaving a trail of dark crimson. Jax rammed his elbow in Baraka’s face, grabbed his neck, lifted him up and punched him. Baraka drove his knee into Jax’s chin, stepping on his foot again when Jax let go of him. He slashed the blades across Jax’s torso, and stabbed his abdomen. Jax produced a deep rumble. He seized Baraka’s collar, raised him above his head, then slammed him into the ground. He picked the Tarkatan up again and did it two, three, four more times, ending by tossing him outside the arena.

Baraka got to his feet wheezing. He hung back for a few brief seconds, before unsheathing his blades and leaping. Jax took a stance, readying himself to block. A meter and a half away from his target, Baraka plunged the blades into the floor, hoisted himself up, and kicked Jax in the chest with both his feet. Jax flew backwards and hit the ground with a thud.

Sonya inhaled sharply. Kang wasn’t breathing at all. Jax didn’t move.

“Finish him!”

Shang Tsung sounded more zealous than Kang had ever heard him. He beheld the scene, feasted on it, yet his visage was still that of a ravenous man.

Baraka whetted his blades against each other so they sparked. He took one step. Then another. Then he groaned indignantly as he dropped.

Not even a heartbeat’s worth of time passed before Sonya sprinted onto the arena and knelt by Jax’s unconscious body. Kang wondered, as he and the others went after her, if this was according to the rules. On the other hand, Shang Tsung probably wouldn’t notice – he was so busy scowling at the knocked out Baraka that Raiden was required to declare the match over and order the guards to clean up. Sonya hissed at the ones that approached Jax.

Together they dragged the major out of the ring. The stone slabs had his blood splattered all over them. In the courtyard, far away from the crowd, they laid him on the ground, Nightwolf checking his pulse and Sonya softly calling his name over and over again.

“Johnny, you are fighting next,” Lao said quietly.

Johnny’s head tore between Jax and the arena. He made a frustrated noise before spurting back to the ring, yelling for everyone to get out of his way.

Kang craned his neck for a better view as Nightwolf tore Jax’s shirt open to look at his wounds. How much time had passed? A minute? Two minutes? More? He knew being unconscious for too long was bad, but he couldn’t remember how long the limit was. Lao squeezed his shoulder gently, and started rubbing his back.

Right then, Jax eyes fluttered open. Kang drew a slow breath.

Jax tried to sit up, but didn’t argue when Sonya pushed him down again.

“Whu happen?”

“You lost,” Nightwolf said whilst he probed the back of Jax’s head for injuries.

“Huh… m’not dead?”

“No!” Kang said. His legs and arms prickled; he had a hard time not shouting whilst jumping up and down. “Baraka passed out right after you did!”

A large grin spread across Jax’s face. He chuckled in a mellow, clucking kind of way. He said something, but it was garbled and Kang couldn’t make out what it was.

“Are you feeling dizzy?” Sonya enunciated each word clearly and slowly as she leaned over her superior officer.

“Naaah… Mebbe.”

“Headache? Nausea?”

“I don… don’t think there’s one inch not hurtin’, Lieutenant…” Jax mumbled, shutting his eyes tightly. “But no nausea.”

“Is he awake?!”

Kang nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden exclamation. Johnny had managed to sneak up behind him and Lao with neither of them noticing, as evident by Lao’s equally shaken appearance.

“Weren’t you going to fight?” he asked.

“I did!” Johnny jerked his head in the direction of the arena, where a new pair was fighting. “How is he?”

Kang made a longwinded exhalation, and willed his heart to stop pounding. There had been more than enough excitement today for his taste.

“Okay, but a little bit… confused?”

Johnny’s face screwed up with concern. He pushed his sunglasses onto his forehead.

“Hey Jax,” he said. “What’s your name?”

Jax opened his eyes, straining to look up at Johnny the best he could without changing positions.

“Jackson Briggs.”

“And where are you?”

Jax knitted his brow thoughtfully.

“Heck if I know,” he said. “An island somewhere. Magical one.”

“What just happened?” Sonya asked.

“I got my ass beaten by some teeth…”

Sonya gave Nightwolf a look from the corner of her eye; wordlessly they decided that Jax was lucid enough and all right to move.

They helped him up and brought him to the accommodations – except for Nightwolf who stayed behind, since he would soon be fighting. To everyone’s relief it appeared that Jax wasn’t so severely injured after all; by the time they arrived at his chambers he was as articulate as normal, showing no cognitive problems. It was actually mindboggling how fortunate Jax was. All of the cuts he received were superficial, and the damage to his abdomen turned out to be literally only a flesh wound. However, his foot was incredibly swollen and it was obvious he was in pain. Kang felt sore just looking at him.

Kang, Lao, and Johnny stayed to assist Sonya in making a platform for Jax’s foot to rest on and dousing some towels, but after that she practically kicked them out, stating she’d take over from there and that they should return to the arena.

“What do you think is going on between them?” Johnny asked in the corridor, out of earshot from Jax’s room.

“They’re friends?” Kang said. He didn’t really see the point of the question.

“Seem pretty close, don’t they…” Johnny mumbled, mostly to himself.

“I’m pretty sure relations in the military aren’t permitted,” Lao said amusedly. Johnny snorted.

“Just ‘cause it isn’t allowed doesn’t mean the feelings won’t be there!” he said, but didn’t discuss it further as they entered the courtyard.

In the arena, Cyrax was in the process of entrapping his adversary in a net that shot out from his armband. As the other man wriggled around to free his limbs from the rope, Cyrax got behind him and swiftly stuck a knife into his head. The display made Kang feel a bit peculiar; the pressure in his chest lessened as abruptly as it had settled, and simultaneously his stomach pulled itself into a tight knot.

They made their way through the mass of spectators just as Cyrax and Nightwolf traded places in the ring. Nightwolf’s opponent was nowhere to be seen.

Then, an intensive flash and extreme heat. A great bonfire had been ignited in the middle of the arena, right in front of them. A hooded figure stepped out of the flames, completely unharmed. It was a striking arrival, even after you became aware of how diminutive the man was compared to Nightwolf.

Scorpion. Clothed in dusty black and yellow, a mask covering his lower face, with two swords overlapping on his back, and cloudy white eyes that glowered out at the audience and one person specifically. At first Kang thought it was Cyrax, but then he quickly gathered that it was actually Sub-Zero whom the wraith was staring so intently at.

The Lin Kuei met the wraith’s ferocious gaze with a raised eyebrow and his chin tilted up. Scorpion’s muscles tensed, his fingers arched and brushed something metallic that dangled from his belt.

“ _Fight!_ ”

Scorpion reluctantly rotated to face Nightwolf. They stayed for nearly a minute observing one another. Nightwolf hunched over a bit, standing at the balls of his feet, all set to move.

Scorpion vanished.

Flames rose up around him and he was gone. He reappeared behind Nightwolf, making his presence known with a fist to the jaw. Nightwolf stumbled but regained his balance, jumped back, and raised his arms. Something materialized in his hands – a bow made entirely out of light. He pulled the string back and arrows drizzled down over Scorpion. He sidestepped, but one still hit his shoulder. Two more hit his upper body. The barbs dug into his flesh before evaporating, leaving open wounds. The fire emerged to shield Scorpion once more before he teleported, but Nightwolf was prepared this time. He dodged the attack, swiveled around and chopped one hand to Scorpion’s neck. He landed another punch to the face, then two kicks to the stomach.

Scorpion emitted a muffled growl and threw himself at Nightwolf. He punched twice, spun and landed a kick to the temple, then jumped up and brought the heel of his boot down on Nightwolf’s head from above. He gripped his swords, slashed diagonally across Nightwolf’s torso, then vaulted backwards and kicked his chin, flickers of fire trailing his feet. Nightwolf fell but got up again, launching himself at the wraith. A bright object took shape in his hand, a knife similar to the bow. He cut Scorpion’s neck and face, gouged his abdomen, cut across his shoulder and throat, then thrust the knife into Scorpion’s chest, leaving it there.

As the knife disappeared, two more weapons manifested in Nightwolf’s hands – small axes. He bashed them into Scorpion’s face, causing him to stagger backwards, buried them in his shoulders, and kicked his back so he plummeted forward.

Scorpion trembled as he pushed himself off the ground. His rib cage rose and fell frantically; he had a frenzied look in his eyes. The fabric of his shirt was torn in the places where Nightwolf had cut him, but beneath it were no wounds. There was only skin and, around the most recent incisions, a glowing orange and black complexion that was slowly stitching itself back together into ordinary human flesh.

The taste of bile climbed up Kang’s throat and settled in his mouth. Suddenly he comprehended Raiden’s worry from before lunch.

_How do you defeat someone who is already dead?_

Scorpion got up on unsteady legs. He looked at the worn out Nightwolf, and pounced. Fire engulfed the wraith’s fists as he overwhelmed Nightwolf with blows to the entire body. He snatched something from his belt – a kunai with a chain attached – and tied it around Nightwolf before kicking him away. With the chain still in his grasp he yanked, causing Nightwolf to jerk to a stop and return. When he got close again, Scorpion punched him in the gut and face, knocking him to the ground, then stamped on his torso.

Scorpion drew one of his swords and raised it above his head, but he didn’t strike. He stood petrified, gazing down at his blistered opponent.

“Finish him!”

Scorpion breathed in. He looked at Shang Tsung and, in an almost defiantly sluggish manner, sheathed the sword. He sent Sub-Zero one last heated glare before teleporting away.

Nightwolf coughed. He rolled over onto his stomach and shoved himself up. Kang, Lao, and Johnny hurried to aid him, but he recoiled whilst shaking his head. Groaning weakly, he got into a kneeling position.

Raiden hauled him to his feet by seizing his arm and draping it around Raiden’s own shoulder.

“Haokah…” Nightwolf grumbled.

“No,” Raiden said as he continued carrying Nightwolf to his chambers, the others quietly trailing behind.

Kang honestly had difficulty telling whether Nightwolf was in a worse condition than Jax or not. Jax was harmed by his sprain and had gotten more cuts, but Nightwolf had taken more blows to the head as well as having sears all over. The blades of Scorpion’s swords alone were so hot they burnt the vessels before any blood could be spilled.

The next hour and a half went to dabbing Nightwolf with wet towels, cleaning off the dead skin and dressing the wounds. Johnny filled the time with talk about actors and stuntmen he knew who’d acquired burns on the job. While his chatter kindled much annoyance for Nightwolf as it went on, it did prove a good distraction from the pain.

They left him to rest in peace when it was done, stopping at Jax’s door and carefully knocking. Sonya opened, straightaway pressing one finger to her lips.

“He’s asleep,” she said after smoothly shutting the door. “Where’s Nightwolf?”

“He lost to Scorpion,” Lao said seriously.

“Dude’s burnt to a crisp!” Johnny said, pulling a face.

Sonya was visibly taken aback by the news. Then her demeanor became dark and she gave Raiden the dirtiest look imaginable. Raiden clasped his hands behind his back and briskly walked down the hallway in the direction of Kang and Lao’s bedroom. Sonya was hot on his heels, wearing a hard-set expression.

As soon as they got to the cousins’ room, the argument began.

Kang thought he had seen Sonya angry before, but now he understood those instances had only been samples of her temper. This time she didn’t raise her voice, or shout, or hiss; she used her indoor voice, possibly making it a pitch lower. She also didn’t clench her hands, or point, or gesticulate at all. Her whole body was stiff, her palms ironed against her hips. Her breaths were measured and deep. Her eyes were enlarged, severe, and blazing with rage.

She was a terrifying sight.

“You have no right! Trick us into coming here, make us risk our lives! Who do you think-”

Raiden’s only reply was a weary look; he sat down and rested his cheek against his fist.

“Do you even know _what_ you’re doing? The people who came here willingly don’t seem to! Everyone’s dying left and right!”

“Death is a part of life, Sonya,” the Thunder God said. Kang had never heard him sound so detached before. “Just like this tournament.”

“We didn’t _ask_ to be sent here!”

“Neither did you ask to be conquered. Occasionally, sacrifices must be made.”

Sonya bared her teeth. “So, you admit we’re just the means to an end?”

Raiden straightened up and folded his arms. He looked at Sonya with vacant eyes.

“Yes.”

One of Sonya’s eyelids twitched. Her face contorted into a sneer. It seemed as if she had a lot more on her mind, but instead of saying it she spun around and stormed off.

Without delay, Johnny got up and ran after her. Kang looked at Lao. Raiden had walked over to the window and was staring out. Lao glanced at Raiden, then at the door, then back at Kang, and nodded.

In the hallway outside, distant footsteps echoed further down. Kang followed, in hope it would be either Sonya or Johnny. When he reached the courtyard, he saw Sonya pacing back and forth, ranting feverishly, with Johnny listening by the side.

“Sonya,” he said. “Sonya, ease up.”

“ _Ease up?_ ” She was spitting and hissing like she normally did. “Didn’t you hear him?”

“Sure, and I didn’t like it either, but he has a point. Think about it,” Johnny said. He raised his hands with the palms up, mimicking a scale. “The entire world versus an island’s worth of people. Who lucks out?”

She stopped marching to and fro, stood akimbo and looked at him fiercely. Kang stayed hidden behind the outer column in the corridor.

“Yeah, it sucks that it’s us, but I don’t think Raiden likes it any more than we do. Might as well make the best of it, now that we’re already here.”

Her shoulders slumped. She wrapped her arms around herself more tightly, digging her nails into her own flesh.

“How can you be so… unfazed by all of this?” she asked, her intonation husky with fatigue. Johnny pointed at himself.

“Actor!” he said with a grin. “Am I happy? Am I spooked? Did I even understand any of what you just said to me? No one can tell!”

Sonya pressed her lips together, but couldn’t stop the smile from tugging at the corners of her mouth or the tiny snort from escaping through her nose. She rolled her eyes at him.

Kang backed away, slinking towards the exit that led to the garden rather than the courtyard. The last thing he heard before rounding the corner was Johnny asking if she wanted a hug, and the last thing he saw as he glimpsed back was Sonya boxing him in the shoulder.

Kang didn’t know why he proceeded to the garden. At least, that was what he told himself when he entered the castle grounds. The greenery was like a rainbow of petals in varying shapes, sizes, and colors. They looked even more spectacular than it did the previous day since the sun still hadn’t set and the majority of the flowers were still in bloom. In one of the garden corners was a cluster of tall hedges that resembled the foundation of a maze. Behind the first curve, sitting on a bench in whitest marble, was _she_.

She had one leg crossed over the other, her skirt riding up so that one more centimeter of her smooth thigh was exposed, and her back was somewhat arched. Ample, brunette locks flowed to her waist. Her eyes were closed and her face tipped up with the aim of catching the last of the sun’s rays. Her veil was lying neatly folded next to her. She turned to look at him, and her whole being lit up with joy.

“Hello!” Princess Kitana said, her inflection unbelievably happy.

“Hi! Y-your highness!” Kang knew he reddened well before she became aware of his presence, but it got even worse after he heard himself clumsily stumble forth.

“Do you wish to sit?”

She moved to the edge of the bench whilst looking at him expectantly. His legs were already buckling; he quickly sunk down on the stone.

“Th-thank you, your highness…”

She cocked her head to the side, causing a few curls to escape from behind her ear. Her eyes were glittering like precious metals.

“You never told me your name, yesterday,” she said.

“Oh, it, it’s Liu Kang!”

“Liu… Kang…” she repeated, sampling the words. “How curious. Do all Earthrealmers have two names?”

“Um, m-most do. Some have more. Most have a name and a surname.”

“Sur-name, what is that?”

“Um, family name?”

“Oh, I see! We have parental titles.” She elevated one hand to her chest. “I am Kitana, daughter of Shao.”

“Some of our surnames are a bit like that. We have a given name and some have second or third names if it’s tradition or if the parents want them to and then there’s the surname,” he blathered on, pausing only to take a quick breath. “But in China, where I’m from, we reverse it. We put our surnames first.”

She puckered her brow as she absorbed the new information.

“Then, I should call you ‘Kang’?” she asked.

Kang’s face flared up again. His heart throbbed so loudly it was drowning out his own voice when he ultimately found it again and managed to answer her.

“I-if you want to!”

Her dimples showed when she leveled her gaze with his.

“Well, in that case, you must call me simply ‘Kitana’.”

“O-okay!”

Kang bashfully returned her beam. His eyes darted from her face to his hands resting on his knees. He wanted to say something else, but the courage from yesterday was lost and he couldn’t think of anything. Again.

In the background, the birds twittering and the insects droning only rendered their quietness so much more obvious. She cleared her throat, averting her eyes to the sky. It hard turned into an intense orange that reflected off the few clouds that drifted by. Kitana uncrossed her legs and changed her position to look at him again. Kang watched her in anticipation, inaudibly begging her to speak.

“I have noticed a young man in your party who does not fight…?” she said, or asked, or perhaps purely filled the silence.

“That’s my cousin, Lao,” he said, possibly too quickly. “He’s… not supposed to be here, but he came anyway.”

She smiled knowingly and didn’t _completely_ roll her eyes.

“I see. Are you close?”

“Um, yeah, pretty close. We’ve been together for as far as I can remember. He’s two years older than me and has always taken care-”

“Two years?!” Her interruption took him by surprise, and seemingly herself as well. Her eyes widened as she covered her mouth with her hand. “Ah, forgive me! I forgot time moves differently in Earthrealm.”

He couldn’t help chuckling a little. She giggled nervously, her cheeks gaining a rosy hue.

“Uh huh. I’m 22, and I’m considered a young adult. How old… um, are… you?”

It was his turn to go red (again). He mentally kicked himself, what was he _thinking?_

Kitana pursed her lips, and waited a long enough time to make him sweat over his phenomenally foolish question before responding.

“I am 4,032,” she said, not sounding particularly affronted, “which is considered a young adult as well.”

“Oh, wow… W-what about your sister?”

“She turned 3,216 not long ago. She is still a child – in more ways than one…” A small sigh slipped out as she trailed off the sentence.

“And your friend?”

“Jade? I am not sure,” she said, frowning. “I know she is past 4,800, but not the exact age. We have never spoken about it.”

“How old do Outworlders become?”

“It is most common to be between 16-and 18,000 at death.”

“Eighteen… thousand…” he breathed out. The oldest Outworlders still alive were born before the first human civilizations existed. How unsophisticated Earth must seem, especially to royalty. Kitana giggled.

“My father is past 10,000,” she said.

“Uh huh…”

Kang’s shoulder slumped; he diverted his eyes to the ground. He had erased from his mind the fact that the Princess in fact was Shao Kahn’s daughter. It was so difficult to believe when looking at and talking to her!

“Is something the matter?”

She leaned slightly forward, giving him a worried look. He chewed on his lip. He would have preferred not to talk about the Emperor, but now that she’d already mentioned him…

“Y-your father… why is he doing this?”

She drew herself back up and laced her fingers together in her lap. Her expression became solemn.

“You must understand, he is not a bad man,” she said quietly. “He merely wishes to help.”

“ _Help?_ ”

Kang briefly wondered if he was hearing things, or if she was trying to lighten the mood by pulling his leg. But her face was earnest and had no humor in it.

“Yes. He sees Earthrealm and its struggles – the wars, crimes, and the famine. He wants to put a stop to it. In Outworld there is peacetime, and has been for millennia. He wants Earthrealm to share our good life, and the only way he knows how to do it is… to have it join his empire.”

She exhaled slowly, dismally. Cast her gaze down to their hands that were resting on the marble with only a few centimeters between them. Had they been sitting this close to each other the whole time?

“But, but earth never _asked_ for him to save it!” Kang said, although he wasn’t sure why; she could hardly do anything to change the current situation. “We don’t want him to rule over us!”

“I know; I am not fond of all of his methods. But I know his intentions are good.”

She turned to observe the shrubs and the blossoms, some of whom were about to close in the fading daylight. She bent forward, resting her chin in her hands. Her bracelets tinkled with movement.

“Outworld will win,” she murmured. “I wish Earthrealm would accept that and submit. Then, there would be no need for Mortal Kombat, or the violence it begets.”

Kang stared at her distress. Either she truly wasn’t Shao Kahn’s daughter, or she was right. She _ought_ to know him better than anyone else.

“It would be nice if we could solve all this without fighting…” he said. She looked back at him, appearing almost reassured.

“Yes! Exactly!” she said. “I am so glad you understand!”

Kang shrugged casually. He couldn’t conceive fighting another living being with the sole objective of harming them, and enjoy it. Her mien intensified.

The image of her at the day’s end, surrounded by vivid shades and with such a warm and tender air…

He knew he was blushing yet again, and she was too; the tinge spread delicately over her features. They watched each other, like they had done the day before, not saying a word. All he was required to do was delve into her eyes, among the shimmering colors, and it wouldn’t matter if-

“ _Kitana!_ ”

Both of them flinched at the same time.

One way or another, Princess Mileena had come up on them without either noticing. She stood in front of them, looking as blasé as she could with the veil still on, one hand resting on a protruding hip. Her hair – which Kang remembered had been tied up elegantly during the matches – now hung loose and tousled around her shoulders.

“M-Mileena!”

Kitana was shocked and more embarrassed than Kang had seen her before. Princess Mileena quirked one brow, but didn’t give the impression of being any less indifferent. She brought her other hand up to scrutinize her carefully manicured nails.

“Shang Tsung will be expecting us for dinner soon,” she said. “Jade wishes to know if you want to wash up beforehand…”

“Oh! Yes, of course!” Kitana scrambled up from the bench, taking her veil and fastening it as well as she could whilst Princess Mileena grabbed one of her arms and began tugging at it. “I, I need to go!”

She sent Kang a regretful eye as her sister pulled her out from the small maze and towards the castle.

“Good bye, Kang!” she called right before they disappeared behind the corner.

“Yes,” Princess Mileena echoed in a much more coquettish tone. “ _Good bye, Kang._ ”

Kang breathed out. If Kitana and Mileena’s relationship was anything like his and Lao’s, Kitana would never hear the end of this. And neither would he, he guessed, if they ever happened to talk again.

Speaking of Lao…

Kang got to his feet and jogged back to their chambers. It was long ago he was supposed to speak to Sonya, and the sun had now set – the others might be wondering where he’d gone off to.

“There you are!” Lao said when Kang crept through the entrance. He was sitting on the bed, with Raiden standing in nearly the same spot as when Kang left. “How’s Sonya?”

“Fine, I think. She and Johnny were talking, so I thought I’d give them some privacy…”

“So where have you been all this time?”

Kang grinned impishly.

“In the garden,” he said. Lao grinned back whilst making some very meaningful humming noises.

“Don’t get too caught up in all this, Kang,” Raiden said with his back still turned to them. “It will not end happily if you do.”

Kang walked over to the bed and sunk down into the mattress next to his cousin.

“Lord Raiden,” he said. “I’ve been thinking…”

“Ooh; should we panic?” Lao said, nudging him in the side. Kang ignored him, still looking at Raiden.

“Yes?” the Thunder God said.

There was a loose thread coming from Kang’s blanket; absently he twined it around his index finger. He wetted his lips.

“There should be better ways to handle things here…”

“What do you mean?”

“What if…” Kang took a breath. “What if Shao Kahn isn’t as bad as we believe him to be? What if, if we stopped fighting and started communicating, he could be an ally?”

Raiden carried on staring out the window for perhaps another half minute. Then he turned to Kang, a deep wrinkle between his eyes.

“What has gotten into you?” he asked.

“Perhaps he is trying to _help_ us! Perhaps it’s a… a misunderstanding that can be solved by diplomacy instead of fighting?” Kang said.

He rambled on as Raiden marched up to him and stopped to stare, arms crossed, with a deadpan expression. To Kang’s left on the bed, Lao was gaping. Raiden put one hand against his forehead, and slowly slid it down his face.

“You are hereby,” he said, pointing at Kang, “ _forbidden_ to speak with that girl!”

“Wha- but, Lord Raiden-!”

Kang sprung from the bed and ran after as the god strode towards the door.

“She’s putting nonsense in your head, and we don’t have time for that!”

“But what if she’s _right_? It might-”

“Liu Kang!”

Raiden gyrated; Kang almost collided with him. He put his hands on Kang’s shoulders and made him look straight into those empty eyes.

“I have been Earth’s protector for millennia. I have known of Shao Kahn for longer. I know what he is capable of. If he could be quelled with peace negotiations, you would not be here today. And that is final.”

Kang bit down on his tongue. He was confident Kitana wasn’t lying, but Raiden seemed certain as well. He didn’t want to defy the god – not at a moment like this.

Raiden sighed, and patted his shoulder.

“Make sure to get some rest,” he said whilst stepping out of the room. “Tomorrow will be a big day, for all of us.”

The door closed behind him with a thud.

Kang returned to the bed, plopping down with a groan.

“He’s right.”

Kang looked at Lao. His cousin was staring out into thin air, before suddenly getting up and wandering back and forth.

“I know I might’ve encouraged you – but I shouldn’t have. You need to be focused, you have an important mission,” he said. “This is about the fate of the world. You have to win this!”

Kang wiggled where he sat. He pulled in his chin to his chest, drawing up his shoulders to his ears.

“I’m not the only fighter from Earth left…”

“But you are the one who’s going to win.”

“You can’t _tell_ for sure-”

“Hey!”

Lao glared at him, eyes narrowed and teeth gritted. His breathing was getting heavier. His hands were balled into tight fists. Kang had to force himself not to wince.

“There’s a reason why Master Yao and Lord Raiden and… _all_ the masters chose _you_. Why _you_ were sent here!”

Lao expression had turned into a sneer. He was spitting out his words with something behind them that Kang didn’t ever want to identify.

It appeared that Lao recognized it, too. He relaxed, to some degree, looking away in guilt. He swallowed.

“It’s because you’re the best,” he mumbled as he sat down again. “And you will win.”

He wrapped his arms around Kang and held him tightly.

“I didn’t disobey our masters and travel around half the world to see you lose, little cousin.”

Kang rested his head on Lao’s shoulder. With a muted sigh, he closed his eyes and nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I did change Kitana’s age and just things in general about wraiths. I have my reasons for doing this, but the explanation will be long-winded and I don't want to waste your time with a wall of text. If you're curious - ask me. If enough asks, I might actually post it here, too.


	5. Bittersweet, I Take My Leave

** Chapter 5 – Bittersweet, I Take My Leave, or **

** One’s Goal Gained Is Another’s Love Lost **

 

It had been a quiet breakfast. Johnny attempted to start a conversation, but after a bunch of clipped, monotonous replies he'd given up. Sonya twisted the majority of her bread to pieces until only crumbs were left rather than eating it. Kang sympathized with her. He hadn't really been in the mood to eat either. It was Lao who shoved the plate – which he also filled – into Kang's hands, and proceeded to pinch him in his side and give him disapproving looks whenever he took too long between mouthfuls. Even when they put the food in their mouths and swallowed it wasn't so much "eating" as it was "grinding it down their throats".

It was the last day, with four rounds left. That meant they would fight multiple times, if they survived.

_No. No "ifs". Will survive._

Kang had pushed the plate away. He didn't care what Lao said; he couldn't take another bite.

The period after breakfast and before the first match was maddeningly long, but at long last the clock approached midday. Soon they all stood by the arena, waiting for Shang Tsung to initiate the third round.

Jax and Nightwolf were there too, looking much healthier. Sonya killed some time by making Jax a crutch using two thick branches, a sharp rock, and ropes she created by tearing her bed sheet to shreds. His cuts and bruises were noticeable but faded; he himself was radiating a composed cheeriness that was quite calming. Nightwolf was not cheerful, but he was calm and had no trouble standing on his own today. His skin still had some red blotches as well as a few blisters left on his arms and neck that looked, if not painful, at the very least uncomfortable. If they actually did bother him, however, he never let anyone know about it.

At twelve o'clock, on the dot, the Outworld party seated themselves on the podium. Shang Tsung made a small speech about the importance of this event, how history would be made, etcetera, etcetera. Kang wished the old man to be a little less fond of his own voice.

He stifled a yawn. He had been twisting and turning for a good chunk of the night, dwelling on all he’d been told about Shao Kahn. It was a real mess.

Up until now he'd known the Emperor as a ruthless dictator, but then Kitana had come yesterday and painted a picture of a benevolent ruler. It was impossible for him to be both. So, what was the truth?

Kang doubted Kitana was telling lies. He couldn't think of anything she could gain by doing it. Besides, she was Shao Kahn's eldest daughter. You'd think she knew him and his politics well.

On the other hand, there was Raiden with his conviction, which Kang couldn't dismiss. The Thunder God was wise, despite occasions of…  _apparent_  evidence to the contrary. Were there any chances of the whole thing being an easily solved misunderstanding? Perhaps. It wasn’t implausible.

Finally, Shang Tsung was done. The last day could properly begin.

Sonya was the first one out, slated to fight Sub-Zero.

They took their positions in the arena. Sonya activated her wrist-laser, then cracked her knuckles and took a stance, all whilst sending Sub-Zero a fierce look. It didn't seem to affect him though; his bearings were as cool and self-assured as always.

A seething Scorpion was standing in the front row of the audience, a homicidal stare leveled at the Lin Kuei. It was strange – Kang didn't remember seeing him in the crowd any of the previous days. He could simply have overlooked him, but it wasn't very likely.

Next to Scorpion stood a man whom Kang  _knew_  he hadn't seen before. He was tall and bald with snow-white skin, blackened sunken in eyes, with red tattoos on his arms and head. He put one hand on Scorpion's shoulder to whisper something. Scorpion nodded as he inhaled deeply, but he didn't relax.

On the arena, the ice crackled in Sub-Zero's fists. Sonya flexed her hand, preparing to target her laser.

" _Fight!_ "

Neither of them dawdled. Sub-Zero did as he had done the day before and instantly shot blasts of ice directly from his hands, several ones in a row this time. Sonya ducked for the first, then shattered the others with her lasers. The last remnants of the ice sprinkled over her. Sub-Zero made a trail of ice to slide forward on it. He punched her in the chin, the head, then spun and kicked her face.

She staggered. He aimed another blow, but she dodged and kicked his stomach. She gave two more rapid punches to his abdomen, his face, drove her knee into his chin, and kicked him in the chest. He stumbled backwards; she tried hitting his face again when a sheet of ice coated his entire physique. She steered away at the last minute, but still clipped the corner of his head. The ice spread to her gloved fist and up onto her arm.

She screamed. Frenetically she tore at herself to get it off. The ice coating exploded off Sub-Zero's body, the fragments sprayed over Sonya. He got behind her, large sword of ice in hand. He slashed at her; she avoided the sword, but not his fist. He hit her face, her head, and lastly her torso. She crashed into the podium when she flew back. The impact made her gasp for air.

Sub-Zero shot another ice blast. She vaulted up on the podium; the ice hit the wood instead. She stood right in front of Shang Tsung, destroying the ice with her lasers and firing at Sub-Zero in between. He sidestepped the shots, then summoned shields of ice to take the blows. She fired one last time, then took off into the air and jumped at the assassin. Her boot missed his head but hit his shoulder. She swiveled around to punch at his face, but he caught her fist, and grabbed her other wrist. She tried kicking him in the gut. He blocked and swept one foot behind her leg. When she remained on her feet, he thrust his knee into her stomach. She slumped a little, but still broke free from his grip. He lunged after her, something white glowing in his hand. She moved away but not far enough. The tip of the icicle grazed her forehead.

She cried out, pressed her hand to her face. The blood gushed between her fingers and into her eye. Sub-Zero came at her with the sword; she shirked it, also ducking for his fist. She kneed him in the gut, then cartwheeled backwards, kicking his face with both feet.

When she stood up again, with a few meters' worth of distance between them, she wavered a little. Her face was pale, with a faint green hue.

Sub-Zero threw another blast of ice. She evaded. He slid up on the ice trail and kicked her stomach, face, head. He rushed at her, slammed his shoulder into her clavicle, punched her abdomen so she doubled over, pulled her upright by her shoulder, and head-butted her right in the temple.

She took a step back. Her legs caved; she sagged down. She bent over, retched, then vomited a light yellow sludge with a few orange chunks of something undigested until there was nothing left and she could do nothing but dry-heave.

"Finish her!"

Sub-Zero watched her apathetically without moving.

Sonya spat out some residue bile before looking up at him, teeth bared.

"Do your worst,  _motherfucker!_ "

His eyes narrowed; a hint of disdain flickered past his face. He scoffed.

For a moment, Kang was certain he was about to start laughing at her. Instead he turned his back to her and left the arena, slowing down for a mere second to return Scorpion's incensed stare with a condescending look. Sektor too was directing a disapproving glare Sub-Zero's way, but, surprisingly, didn't say anything. Sub-Zero paid him no mind.

Sonya rose on trembling legs, then stumbled forth to the audience. She almost made it all the way when she lost her balance and Johnny had to catch her. She draped one arm around his neck, allowing his arm around her waist to steady her. He fished up a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it against her still oozing wound. The color had returned to her face; her cheeks were in fact exceedingly red, contrasted by flakes of leftover snow in her hair.

"Son of a bitch…" she said. "What's his problem? I'm not  _good enough_  for him to kill, huh?!"

Kang clamped his mouth shut so he wouldn't smile. Leave it to Sonya to be insulted when someone spares her life. At least now they knew she wasn't  _very_  badly injured.

"Maybe you should go lie down," Johnny said.

"No, I'm fine," she said, waving her hand dismissively.

"Oh, really?" Jax said as he fixed a stern gaze onto her. She glared back.

"Okay, I'm a bit dizzy and my head hurts a little, but I won't be running any marathons! I'll just stand here and watch. No exertion."

They argued with her about it for several minutes, but she remained steadfast until Nightwolf pointed out she risked frostbite and should reheat the hand that was caught in the ice. Then she agreed to return to her chambers (while rejecting an escort, of course) but returned less than ten minutes later with a hot, damp towel wrapped around her hand and some more of her bed sheet as bandage for her head.

"I didn't miss your match, did I?" she asked. Her breath smelled like alcohol. Kang suspected she'd used the Outworldian rinse, available in every bathroom and tasting like it would corrode your tongue, to get rid of the vomit taste.

He shook his head. "No. I'm next."

"Good."

Kang's opponent was a woman. She was large – much bigger than him. His blows ended up not doing much to her. He had to focus on her legs, kicks to her shins and knees, and used mainly a multitude of small fireballs against her upper body. She did get a few good punches, even catching him once. He thought she'd break his back, but either she wanted to extend the match or she didn't think of it, because she only threw him back to the ground. He skidded against the stone; it did leave a long abrasion on his arm but not much else.

In the end, the match turned out to be a pretty good warm up.

As he left the arena, he noticed a trace of vexation in Shang Tsung's countenance due to him yet again refusing to kill his opponent. Kitana, on the other hand, was gazing at him approvingly, which only made what the old sorcerer thought matter even less.

Shang Tsung plastered on a jovial face.

"Next match! Johnny Cage! Versus…"

His expression turned more genuine, and dangerous. He looked over at Princess Mileena. Or rather, the person behind her.

"…Baraka!"

Johnny smirked, rolled back his shoulders and cracked his neck. "Showtime…"

Baraka jumped down from the podium to the arena. He was panting with anticipation; his grin was somehow bigger than usual. There was a crazed, bloodthirsty look to his eyes. Perhaps he'd actually get to kill something today?

Johnny peered at him over his sunglasses.

"You sure you don't want to surrender while you still can?"

Baraka's grin transformed into a scowl. He snarled.

" _What?!_ "

"I mean, seriously…" Johnny shook his head whilst sighing dramatically. "You could barely hold your own against an  _injured_  man."

The Tarkatan's arm-blades shot out with a clang. He filed them against each other while screaming. " _I will carve you up like a sushta!_ "

Johnny laughed, assuming a fighting stance. He beckoned to Baraka.

"Bring it, Scissorhands!"

Shang Tsung gave his lackey an admonishing look, but Baraka was too enraged to notice. Slowly he raised one hand to the contestants.

" _Fight!_ "

Kang expected Baraka to charge madly, like yesterday. Instead he whetted his blades together and a myriad of intense sparks launched at Johnny. He sidestepped at the last second, but a few still touched him, leaving red marks on his skin. Now Baraka attacked, blades swinging and stabbing at Johnny. The actor dodged by somersaulting backwards. Baraka grumbled, then charged again. Johnny evaded the blades by flipping, spinning, and soaring around the arena – it looked like he was involved in a dance routine rather than a fight for his life.

He lit up with green, got close, and kicked Baraka's thorax; the Tarkatan stumbled back. Johnny began throwing energy balls. Baraka ducked for the first, blocking the rest with his blades. He lunged forward to strike with the blade half retracted. Johnny flipped back, parried, thrust his knee into Baraka's chin, kicked his face, then swiveled around to kick him in the neck. Baraka flung forward, plummeting down. Johnny skipped back a few steps before throwing more energy balls. The first ones hit. Baraka yelled and blocked the others, slicing them in half before they connected.

Baraka spurted, scraping the ground as he advanced. Dust, grit, and sparks flew up; Johnny dashed to get away. Baraka spun, cutting Johnny's arms that he'd brought up to protect himself with. The Tarkatan stopped, kicked Johnny's knee, slashed with the blades over his abdomen. He punched him in the stomach, kicked his upper body.

Johnny wobbled backwards, then rushed. Deflected a blade, gave two swift punches to the face, a kick to the head, more punches to the face and throat, then finally a kick to the leg. Baraka bellowed, completely beside himself, then jump kicked Johnny in the chest with both feet. He rolled on the ground, got up before Johnny could collect himself, punched his jaw, and swept with one blade across his face.

Johnny's head snapped to the side; his sunglasses flew off his face, shattering against the stone. He staggered a little as he looked at Baraka. The angry red line went over the bridge of his nose to his forehead, starting right beneath his eye. One more centimeter further up and he would have gone blind.

"Nice shot…" he said, sounding a bit incoherent.

He walked forward clumsily, reeling and nearly falling over. Next he sprung, as deftly as before, punched Baraka, kicked his gut, and spun and kicked him in the head. Baraka almost yelped with surprise.

"Think you can do it again?" Johnny leaned slightly forward, deliberately leaving himself open for attack, gesturing to his face. "Come on!"

Baraka attacked with a howl. He was just about to stab Johnny in the head, when the actor went into a split and punched his groin not one but  _three times._  Baraka deflated, squirming as he doubled over. Johnny jumped up and drove his elbow into Baraka's back. The Tarkatan collapsed into a heap and stayed there, quivering.

Johnny rejoiced; he skipped around Baraka, chanting and making V-signs, before stopping to bow in front of first the podium and then the audience. Among the latter, a few people actually gave him a round of applause. Among the former, Raiden was doing his best – that is to say, nothing at all – not to smile smugly. The Princesses were appearing astounded with the outcome. Shang Tsung was fuming silently, holding his armrest so tightly his knuckles were turning white.

Johnny returned to his spot in the crowd, but not before collecting his sunglasses. One of the shades was cracked and the other had fallen out completely. He put the pieces in his pocket.

"Major Briggs!" he said whilst saluting. "Consider yourself avenged!"

Jax chuckled. "Much appreciated, Mr. Cage."

Sonya shook her head as she handed over her towel to Johnny.

"Here, it's clean," she said. Johnny happily accepted and pressed it against his face.

"I can't believe you made it!" Kang said.

Johnny shrugged.

"Well, honestly," he said. He inhaled deeply before suddenly shouting: " _He wasn't that tough!_ "

Baraka, who was otherwise busy being helped off the arena by some guards, scowled at Johnny and appeared to say something under his breath. Kang speculated whether profanity existed in Outworld like it did on Earth.

The next person to fight was Cyrax, who defeated his opponent by smashing a large, round metallic object into the back of their head, and after that stabbing them in the temple. The remainder of the round went by quickly, concluding when Goro trapped his opponent beneath his foot and crushed first his ribs, then his head.

Shang Tsung declared the third round over, wishing the contestants a pleasant meal – the implication that "it might be your last" hanging clear at the end.

They were all ready to leave when Scorpion stormed out onto the arena.

" _Shang Tsung!_ "

His voice resounded over the buzzing of the crowd. Light wafts of smoke were emerging from his hands. He pointed at Shang Tsung.

"You have wasted enough of my time, sorcerer! I will wait no longer!" He clenched his fist; it burst into flames. " _I. Demand. Sub-Zero._ "

Shang Tsung regarded the wraith with an impassive face. He squinted at the audience, at the man with the red tattoos, and cocked a brow. The tattooed man's lips pulled into a thin grin. Shang Tsung smiled.

"An unexpected challenge!" he proclaimed, theatrically standing up and extending his arms to the combatants. "But, will it be accepted?"

Every head turned to Sub-Zero. Cyrax put one hand on his shoulder, but it was violently shaken off. Sub-Zero slowly walked over to face Scorpion, standing as close they possibly could without actually touching.

"I will make you suffer!" Scorpion growled. Sub-Zero sneered at him.

"So you've said. Many times." Sub-Zero raised his chin. He sounded almost amused. "I'm beginning to tire of your  _empty_  promises."

Scorpion bristled, drawing himself up and closer to Sub-Zero's height. His whole body was shaking.

"You will pay for what you did to my family!"

"I've never  _touched_  your  _pathetic_  family-"

Scorpion shoved him back with a roar before he could finish. Both immediately assumed a fighting stance. Shang Tsung snickered.

"Now, now, gentlemen," he said warmly. "Let us do this in a civilized manner."

He seated himself on his throne, leaned back, and laced his fingers together. He watched the two men who never once tore their eyes from each other.

" _Fight!_ "

Scorpion grabbed the kunai from his belt and threw it. A thick shield of ice appeared in front of Sub-Zero, stopping the daggers path. Scorpion tugged at the chain to retrieve his weapon that was lodged in the shield. Sub-Zero started propelling ice blasts with an incredible speed. Scorpion held up his hand, melted every chunk of ice that came close, then continued to tug at the chain. An icicle got past him; it scraped his arm. With one last powerful pull the kunai came loose. Flames rose from the ground as Scorpion teleported.

He appeared right behind Sub-Zero. The Lin Kuei sprinted out of reach, letting an ice statue take his place. Scorpion punched through the statues head. Sub-Zero swiveled around, striking Scorpion in the face twice. He punched his stomach, punched his face again, and delivered a kick to the abdomen. Scorpion rumbled with rage. He kicked Sub-Zero's thorax, and punched his head. He jumped up to kick his chin, but Sub-Zero blocked. The assassin punched Scorpion again, then spun and kicked the wraith's head.

Scorpion punched; Sub-Zero dodged. Scorpion unsheathed one sword and slashed from above. Sub-Zero stopped the blade with his forearm guard. Scorpion grabbed the other sword and cut Sub-Zero's leg. Sub-Zero grunted with pain. He produced his own sword, cutting into Scorpion's side.

Scorpion raised his swords with a scream; Sub-Zero blocked both with his own blade. Scorpion thrust them against Sub-Zero's throat, who moved aside and stabbed at Scorpion's shoulder. The wraith blocked using his weapon, cutting through the ice blade as if it was butter. Sub-Zero quickly repaired it and slashed at Scorpion's torso. Scorpion vaulted backwards, up on the podium, then jumped over and behind Sub-Zero, and tried slashing from behind. Sub-Zero gyrated to block, kicking Scorpion in the gut.

Scorpion thrust again; Sub-Zero blocked again. Every time the blades connected, Scorpion's hissed as steam rose from it, whilst Sub-Zero's melted before freezing and restoring itself again.

Sub-Zero fired a large ball of ice at Scorpion's feet, freezing him to the ground. Scorpion struggled to get free; the ice cracked some but otherwise didn't budge. Sub-Zero moved in. Scorpion elevated his swords, attacking the best he could, but the Lin Kuei ducked. An icicle materialized in Sub-Zero's hand; he plunged it into Scorpion's chest. Sub-Zero forced him down to his knees, then twisted the ice so it broke, before pushing the wraith to the ground.

Sub-Zero fired more ice blasts, some which hit but quickly melted. Scorpion got to his feet with a snarl, and teleported. He punched Sub-Zero, his fist burning, but failed to cut with his sword. Sub-Zero hooked his foot behind Scorpion's leg to trip him, but Scorpion teleported again. He came into view at the other end of the arena, reaching for his kunai while still in the air. Sub-Zero's hand glowed white, a massive piece of ice forming in it.

He dropped it. Gasps could be heard in the audience.

Sub-Zero looked down at his torso, at the blot of red that grew bigger each second, at the kunai whose tip was buried in the middle of it. His chest rose sluggishly. He tried to inhale, but all that could be heard was a wet rattle. At the other end of the arena, Scorpion stood limp, barely holding onto the chain, simply staring at his opponent. It was impossible to tell which of the two men was more taken aback.

Sub-Zero raised a trembling hand to grasp the weapon's handle. It was enough to stir Scorpion.

" _Get over here!_ "

He yanked at the chain. Sub-Zero fell to his knees. Scorpion hauled the other man forward, then leapt the last few meters that separated them. He ripped the kunai from Sub-Zero's flesh, and wedged it in under his mask, into his jaw. Sub-Zero hardly had time to scream as Scorpion instantly wound the chain around his neck, pulling it taut. Scorpion kneed him in the stomach; he punched him numerous times. A long, thin icicle emerged in Sub-Zero's hand; he gouged it into the wraith's neck. Scorpion didn't even bother removing it, and pulled the chain tighter. Sub-Zero tried taking hold of the wraith's wrists, but had no strength to grip with.

He said something.

It was muffled,  _strangled_ , but a few gargling words still escaped from behind the mask. Kang wondered whom he was speaking to – his face was turned to the sky, and his eyes were rolling back into his head.

" _No! I can't… I-I must-_ "

Scorpion jerked at the chain. He seized the Lin Kuei's head, forcing him to look into his murky white gaze.

" _Die!_ "

A small flame flickered to life in Scorpion's hand; it traveled around the chain and over to Sub-Zero. It spread quickly, and soon all of him was set ablaze. He didn't scream, but only because he  _had no air to scream with_.

Fire shot up from the ground, enveloping them both.

Kang took a step back, but Lao still grabbed his arm and coerced him to retreat some more. The heat… it was like running face first into a stonewall. The smell was somehow even worse. A foul, pungent yet sweet, odor that forced its way into your nostrils and down your throat, making you gag.

Johnny was staring as if hypnotized at the scene, jaw hanging slack. Sonya held on to Jax's arm so he wouldn't fall, or maybe it was to keep herself upright. Nightwolf turned away completely, refusing to watch. Kang tried to breathe, but the air was so hot and rank it physically hurt. Lao squeezed his hand firmly.

The fire died down to reveal Scorpion, in the same position, breathing heavily. Opposite him was a… shape. Cinders pressed together in the contour of a kneeling man.

Scorpion stepped back, snatching his kunai out of the black form. The shape crumpled into a mound of dust.

The wraith stared at it. Then the flames rose around him once more, and he was gone.

Shang Tsung stood up, laughing.

"What a challenge! However, we must return to our schedule. The final rounds will continue soon!"

With that, he left the podium with his entourage. The audience too began moving away from the arena, the pale, tattooed man disappearing through a portal of his own.

Of the two surviving Lin Kuei warriors, Sektor departed briskly, whilst Cyrax stayed to size up the mound on the stone arena. When he finally walked, it was towards the remains of his colleague.

Kang looked back at the assassin. He chewed on his lip.

"Kang, are you coming?"

Kang's head snapped to Lao, who was looking at him with concern in his eyes.

"Uh… Soon. I'll be with you in a minute," he said, making up his mind. "Can you fill a portion for me?"

Lao knitted his brow, but acquiesced and turned to follow the others.

Kang slowly made his way up to Cyrax. When he reached him, he saw that his hands were deep in the pile of ashes. Kang cleared his throat. Cyrax turned around. His eyes perked up when he saw the monk.

"Are you here to help me?" he asked.

Kang's eyes widened in terror. Sure, it was just ashes, and some charred leather, and possibly a few pieces of bone, oh god… but, but, it was  _human_  ashes! Kang could still smell the bitter aroma.

"Ummm…"

Cyrax chuckled.

"I'm joking," he said.

Kang drew a breath of relief, and laughed nervously.

"Oh… Right…"

Silence fell over them as Cyrax rummaged through what was left of… Kang could barely say it, even though he neither knew nor liked the man. But using someone's name when referring to… a lump of coals made Kang feel sick for some reason. He couldn't fathom how Cyrax could act so nonchalant about it.

"Were you good friends?" he asked.

Cyrax paused for a moment, before resuming his… search.

"No."

"Oh."

Kang shuffled his feet. He swallowed, his mouth feeling so dry all of a sudden. He opened and closed it several times, willing himself to come up what to say next. He was at a loss.

"He has a brother."

Kang started. His eyes darted between Cyrax and the pile, blinking dumbly.

"He does?" he said, squawking a little. It never occurred to him that an assassin could have a family.

"Yes, a younger brother."

Cyrax stood up, dusting his hands off. In his palm laid an ornate, dirtied piece of metal – a belt buckle.

"Returning with such grim news emptyhanded… doesn't seem right."

He weighed the buckle in his hand whilst he contemplated it with a sorrowful look in his eyes. Perhaps it was the brother he knew well. Kang pondered what he was like. Was he an assassin too? Probably. How awful it must be, knowing your brother died fighting for the ones who wanted to conquer your home.

"Why are you here?" he blurted out.

Cyrax looked at him in surprise, then he frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"You're from Earthrealm! Why do you fight for Outworld?"

The confusion vanished from Cyrax's eyes. What little Kang could see of his expression turned jaded.

"Why, because Shang Tsung paid more."

"Because…  _he paid you?_ "

"Yes."

"You'll betray your home world for money?"

Cyrax shrugged lightly.

"The Lin Kuei holds allegiance to no one. Anyone can benefit from our service," he said. It sounded rehearsed. "The Grand Master gives orders, and we follow."

Kang grimaced. He'd only heard about the Grand Master two times yet he already disliked him.

"It sounds like your Grand Master ought to retire," he muttered.

Cyrax coughed. Kang could've imagined it, but he guessed it was to cover up a tiny laugh. He looked down at the belt buckle again. He'd been rubbing his thumb against it, causing its original bronze hue to show.

Kang gestured to the buckle.

"What was all that about, anyway?"

Cyrax stayed quiet for a while, continuing to polish the buckle before answering.

"I don't know all the details, but their history stretches many years back. They have fought numerous times."

"Sub-Zero killed him, didn't he?"

"Yes."

Kang drew a deep breath, puffed out his cheeks, and slowly exhaled it. "Did he kill Scorpion's family too? Like he claimed?"

"No."

"How do you know?"

Cyrax put the now clean buckle away somewhere in his uniform, then began to walk slowly, waiting for Kang to come along.

"Scorpion's clan was our enemy for centuries," he said. "If it was a Lin Kuei who slaughtered them all, he wouldn't remain quiet about it."

Kang supposed that made sense. It also made it much more horrible.

Scorpion, wishing to avenge his loved ones, had been hunting the wrong man for years, and Sub-Zero was killed for a crime he didn't commit.

"Then what was the point?" he asked out loud. "Scorpion could have gone after the real culprit and Sub-Zero could have-"

He cut himself off. Could have what? Returned home to his brother? Lived happily ever after? Was there such a thing for an assassin? Besides, he still killed Scorpion. The wraith could've wanted revenge for that too.

Kang scolded himself. What a naïve way of thinking. But to his surprise, Cyrax nodded in agreement.

"Indeed," he said. "But such is life. Sometimes, unnecessary conflicts become unavoidable because everyone involved is too stubborn to compromise."

His words rang true – not just in this individual case. Kang suspected, by the absent look in Cyrax's gaze, that he too had another significance in mind. He looked at Kang.

"We should make ourselves ready for the last rounds."

"Yeah…"

Cyrax would be fighting Johnny next time. Kang mentioned this, and the assassin's eyes started gleaming.

"Yes, and I'm looking forward to it," he said.

Kang had to make an effort not to gulp.

"Oh, really?"

"Yes. I absolutely  _detest_  his films."

"Ah, well…" Kang laughed like there was something stuck in his throat. "Don't enjoy yourself too much!"

Cyrax cocked his head a bit to the side, but what could be seen of his face was unreadable.

"I'll try," he said. He bowed his head. "Until then, Liu Kang."

Kang bowed back, and they parted. Cyrax went out from the courtyard and down to the beach. Kang suddenly became aware of that he’d never seen neither him nor his associates eat.

Perchance was it part of Lin Kuei training to learn how to go for days without food…

Kang turned to the accommodations; he would be joining the others as he told Lao, but he wanted to wash up first. He had just entered the long corridor, when…

"Kang!"

Kang spun excitedly, beaming at Princess Kitana as she came up to him.

"Your high-Kitana!" he said, instantly turning red. "Hi!"

"Hello," she said. She was wearing the veil again, which was a bit of a shame, and a much more extravagant dress than the previous three days. "Well done, today."

"Oh, um, thanks!" he said, taking a quick look on the ugly scuff mark on his arm. He hid it behind his back.

"How are your friends?"

"They're fine," he said, although he was sure Sonya lied about how badly her head hurt. But since Jax didn’t said anything, it probably wasn't too serious. "They're tough."

Kitana giggled. "They are."

She clasped her hands in front of her, and didn't say anything else. It looked like she wanted to fidget or move about in some way, but kept herself standing still. Kang wished he had willpower like that.

She giggled again. "Forgive me. I approach you to talk, but have nothing to say."

Kang only grinned like a fool and shrugged. He realized that he for once had something for them to talk about. He gathered all his nerves as he looked at Kitana, who was inspecting the ceiling with a puckered brow.

"I have been thinking-" he said, but interrupted himself when Kitana held up one finger to quieten him.

She sent him an apologetic glance.

"Reptile," she said. "We would prefer this to be a private conversation, if you please."

Kang's eyebrows shot up into his hairline; he started inspecting the same spots Kitana had done before. High up on the wall to their left, the last Saurian became visible, clinging to the stone like a spider, or a frog. His eyes were trained at Kang, suspiciously narrowed.

"Yes, your highness," he said. His inflection was a lot lower and huskier than Kang would've expected.

He nimbly jumped down, landing a decimeter from where Kang stood. He was tall and wiry, looking quite resilient. He spent another second glaring hostilely at Kang, then bowed to Kitana before leaving.

"I will join you in the dining hall in a few moments," Kitana called after him.

"Yes, your highness."

He exited the corridor, walked far enough to give them some privacy, and stopped in the middle of the courtyard to keep an eye on them.

Kitana sighed.

"Seclusion can be scarce, sometimes," she said with a shake her head, then gazed softly at Kang. "You wished to tell me something?"

Kang cleared his throat.

"Yeah… I've been thinking about what you said, about your father."

"Oh? And?"

She looked curious, and somewhat eager. Kang fiddled with the rim of his belt. He carefully peeked up at her.

"I don't think it matters. It's gone too far already."

The Princess's expression immediately turned sober. She looked to the ground whilst wrapping her arms around herself.

Kang felt bad for saying it, but it was true. It didn't matter what Shao Kahn's intentions were, or if negotiations could have solved everything. They were past that point, and probably never could have gotten to that point to begin with.

The Emperor – for his own reasons – wanted Earthrealm, and Raiden refused to give it to him. Compromising was and maybe always had been impossible. Fighting was the only option. And that was final.

Kitana sighed.

"Yes, you are right. I know," she said. She looked at him, bittersweet. "But it was a good dream."

Kang shuffled, wringing his hands uneasily. He glimpsed past Kitana.

Reptile was still in the courtyard, glaring at Kang like he was the reason his race died out. Good thing Saurians weren't able to secrete acid out of their eyes as well.

"Perhaps you should leave, before Reptile decides to murder me…" he said, trying to sound jovial.

Kitana twisted her head towards Reptile, who pretended to have looked at something entirely different the whole time. She huffed quietly.

"Yes, perhaps I should," she said. "I will see you later, Kang."

She begun to leave, and Kang was hit with a desire to make her stop, if only for a minute. If this would end up being their final meeting, he didn't want this to be the last thing they said to each other.

"Umm…"

She halted, turning back to him. "Yes?"

"I, uh, wish we'd met under… different… circumstances."

_Wow. That sounded corny._

Kitana gave him an odd look. Then she giggled. A few wisps fell out from behind her ear; she pushed them back. The pale skin above her veil was gaining color.

"So do I."

* * *

Kang's stomach churned. He had just stepped out of the arena as the victor for the fourth time, but that wasn't the reason for his damp skin and shortness of breath. It was because of Johnny.

The actor grinned at him as they exchanged places, holding up his hand for a high-five. Kang didn’t know how he managed to contort his face into a joyful one. He’d spent most of his match on autopilot, worrying more about his friend than himself. His opponent had been injured too, having trouble keeping himself upright, which made things easier. Cyrax was barely injured at all, or at least not to the naked eye.

Johnny rocked back and forth, moving his arms and stretching his muscles. Cyrax was stationary, his only motion deep, even breaths. Although… did Kang dream it up, or did the assassin cast a fleeting look his way?

" _Fight!_ "

Johnny jumped back to increase the space between them, then lobbed two large balls of energy in rapid succession. Cyrax dodged both, plucked a small spherical object from his belt and tossed it to the ground. A dense cloud of smoke billowed out of it, obscuring him from view. Before Johnny could react, Cyrax came up next to him, punching his abdomen, his face. He took another, bigger, sphere, bashed it over Johnny's head, then shoved into his stomach. It exploded, sending Johnny tumbling back.

Johnny got to his knees, throwing another energy ball that went whistling by Cyrax's head. Cyrax snatched a bomb from his belt and rolled it across the ground. Johnny scrambled backwards as dust and smoke whirled up around him.

Cyrax hung back, attentively scanning the area as the smog receded. A green-glowing projectile came at him; he blocked it, then got kicked in the chest when Johnny soared out right afterwards. Johnny punched twice, kicked the Lin Kuei's head, but failed to land third punch. Cyrax struck his face instead and tried to kick him. Johnny warded it off with a kick to the abdomen followed by an elbow to the throat. Cyrax stooped down, then kicked Johnny's chin. The actor stumbled backwards, throwing one more energy ball before regaining his balance. Cyrax sidestepped it whilst releasing another bomb. Johnny jumped over the sphere, tumbled before getting to his feet and kicking Cyrax's face. He spun to kick his head, punched him in the face and in the gut. He charged up his hand, making it pulsate with green, and uppercut the assassin. Cyrax's head snapped back – he fell.

Johnny charged his hand again. He was about to move, when Cyrax, still lying down, caught his ankle with his foot, trying to trip him. Johnny swayed, but remained standing upright. Cyrax flew up. He kicked Johnny’s leg, head, spun and kicked his temple, punched him on the nose, in the jaw. He threw a third bomb; Johnny was hurled into the air. Cyrax came up behind him, kicked him in the back, then grabbed him and drove him into the ground headfirst. He put one foot on the back of Johnny's head, pushing his face into the stone.

Johnny attempted to get up. Cyrax hit him in the back, then caught him in a headlock and pulled out his dagger. Johnny trashed around, clawing at Cyrax's arm. Cyrax raised the dagger.

Time stood still. Kang heard Sonya breathe out a small  _"No"_. He saw Lao blanching from the corner of his eye. He swallowed. He didn't want to watch, but he couldn't look away either.

"Finish him!"

Shang Tsung's sudden rasp was like nails on a chalkboard. Cyrax hesitated. Johnny was turning blue in the face. Cyrax slowly closed his eyes. Then he pushed Johnny to the ground.

Johnny slumped, coughing and gasping for air. Cyrax took a tremulous step away from him whilst breathing heavily. He looked up, letting his gaze tear past the crowd. Kang stared at him in an effort to catch his attention, but the Lin Kuei didn't notice. He bolted off the arena, out to the courtyard. Sektor followed with an infuriated look in his eyes.

Johnny assumed a sitting position. His face had swelled and there were welts all over it. The cut he received earlier had started bleeding again. He groaned.

"So, how many points do I get?" he asked when they got up to him.

"'A' for effort," Jax said.

Johnny looked up at the sky, contemplating the answer. He shrugged.

"Well, it's something," he said, wincing when he touched his puffed-up cheek. Sonya bent down to him.

"I hate to break it to you, Cage," she said with a small smirk. "But your pretty face is pretty wrecked."

Johnny slyly smiled back.

"Aw, don't worry, Sonya. I'll just have someone kiss it better," he said as he waggled his eyebrows at her.

She snorted, straightening up again. Nightwolf crouched down next to Johnny and pulled the actor's shirt up. Johnny flinched.

"Whoa, Nightwolf! Buy me dinner first!"

Nightwolf gave him a blank look.

"I'm checking for contusions," he said. "How is your breathing?"

Johnny drew in a long, deep breath.

"All good!"

"Any chest pain?"

"Nope."

"Increased heart rate?"

"Uh, no?"

"You should check in to a hospital as soon as possible."

Nightwolf stood, pulling Johnny up with him. Slowly, they returned to their places among the spectators, Kang going slightly ahead but not stopping by the other contestants. Instead he continued out to the courtyard.

Cyrax and Sektor were standing face to face by the gate, stances rigid. Both of them had removed their cowls and masks; Sektor's face was nothing but harsh angles. He hissed out his words, but Kang could still hear them as clearly as if he'd been standing right next to him.

"You had an assignment! You disobeyed your orders!"

"Defeating him was enough. He didn't  _need_  to die."

Sektor gritted his teeth.

"That's not your decision to make! You have broken your oath to the Grand Master!" He put his hands on his hips as he took a step closer to Cyrax. "This only verifies the essentiality of the Cyber Initiative. It will erase all insubordination."

Cyrax frowned, narrowing his eyes and pressing his lips into a thin line.

"I will not be experimented on," he said lowly.

"You will do as you are told!" Sektor snapped.

Cyrax clenched his jaw whilst giving Sektor a long-drawn-out stare. He inhaled deeply.

"No," he said; Sektor's eyes widened. "I renounce my oath and my name."

Sektor's mouth opened and closed several times without him saying anything. When he finally managed to speak, it was in a splutter.

" _What?_  No one leaves the Lin Kuei!"

Cyrax leaned forward, putting them at an equal height, with less than a centimeter between their faces.

"Watch me."

He turned and started walking out the gate. Sektor stood as still as a statue for a brief moment. Then he rushed after Cyrax, hand raised with electricity crackling in his palm. Cyrax swiveled to ward off the attack. Sektor punched; Cyrax dodged, kneed the smaller man in the stomach, and flipped him over so he fell to the ground. Lastly, he stomped on his head, rendering him unconscious.

Cyrax sent the Lin Kuei one final look of absolute loathing before running down the forest path.

Sektor wriggled back to life. He lifted his head just in time to see Cyrax disappear behind the hedges. Growling, he got up to pursue his former comrade.

Kang begun to run. He couldn't stand back and do nothing. Cyrax might need help-

"Next match! Liu Kang…"

He stopped dead in his tracks.

_The tournament! No!_

His head twisted to the arena, then to the gate where Cyrax and Sektor put more distance between them and everyone else for every passing second.

"…the sole remaining contestant from Earthrealm…"

Kang chewed on his lip. Cyrax was – had been – a Lin Kuei too. He was capable of handling himself. He took care of Sektor just fine before. It was silly, thinking he needed help.

"…versus…"

Kang went back to the arena, waded through the crowd, to position himself on the stone floor. Shang Tsung looked down his nose at him, warping his face into something crueler.

" _…Ermac!_ "

His opponent levitated in from the other end of the arena. Kang forced his breathing calm. He’d seen the… man? …a number of times during his days on the island, on and off the arena. He wasn't ashamed to admit that Ermac unnerved him. The man was just  _eerie_. All his actions were done with a cold detachment. Black strappings were wrapped around his head and face, covering it all except his eyes, which glowed an unnatural green. Whenever he spoke, his voice would reverberate, as if thousands of other people spoke with him. The very first moment he became aware of him, Kang was overwhelmed by a sensation of suffering and oppression.

Ermac continued to the middle point of the arena, where he knelt before Shang Tsung and the princesses, like he always did at the beginning of his fights. It was the only time his feet ever touched the ground. He rose up, floating back to his end.

Kang assumed a stance. Tried to relax. He would not let his emotions control him.

" _Fight!_ "

Ermac raised one hand. Kang jumped back and launched a fireball at him. Ermac repelled it with a flick of his wrist; with another quick wave, he hoisted Kang meters up in the air. Kang braced himself just before crashing to the ground. The collision made him groan – he suspected he might've cracked something. His entire body ached already, but he compelled himself to get up and move. He scurried left and right, back and forth, pitching balls of fire against the Outworlder as swiftly as he could conjure them. Ermac had dominated most of his fights without having to lay a hand on his opponent, more than ever if they weighed little, like Kang did. However, to do that, he had to catch them first.

One fireball zoomed past Ermac's head while another hit his arm. It singed his sleeve, but didn't burn through the fabric. He watched Kang silently. A bright light encased him; a second later he was right behind Kang, striking his neck. Kang tried moving away; Ermac kicked his stomach and punched his face. He aimed another blow, but Kang interrupted by kicking his chin. Kang elbowed him in the gut, punched him twice, finishing with an uppercut.

Ermac extended his hand, but it didn't connect. Kang was pulled off the ground, got pushed back, stopped so abruptly he got whiplash, then flew up, up, up. He dropped, was lifted up, hurled to the side, nearly smacked into a pillar. Ermac tossed him to and fro, from side to side so rapidly it felt like he was everywhere all at once. It probably looked hilarious if you were standing safely on the ground, Kang presumed as he slammed into the stone tiles. His breath rattled as he pushed himself up.

He threw two fireballs at Ermac's face, which were blocked, before dashing at him. He punched his stomach, kicked his chest, spun and punched his chest again. His blows felt feebler than usual.

Ermac brought both arms down on Kang's head, punched his face, spun and kicked his head, struck his face, his leg, then punched his jaw. Kang dodged the next two blows, kicked the Outworlder's shin, torso, abdomen. Putting all his might into it, he punched his throat, then jump kicked him in the head.

Ermac soared back as a green light shot out from his hands. Kang didn't have time to block, but strangely enough the light didn't seem to hurt him. Then his stomach turned inside out.

He stumbled. His senses became cloudy; lights, shapes, and sounds blurred together. The world rotated so fast it was impossible to stand upright. Everything he'd consumed earlier surged. He couldn't move; his joints stiffened, his skin iced over. It felt like something crawled down his throat to settle in his innards, and was now freezing him from within.

He heard voices.

Men and women, old and young, some high-pitched ones that could be children. They came close to his ears, screaming, gasping, gurgling, crying…

They whispered things to him. Secrets. Knowledge. Words of love and encouragement. A few begged for him to save them. Others laughed without mirth, mockingly welcoming him to join them.

He could see their faces. Silhouettes in a pale green mist. Shadowy facades and undulating hair. Long, slim fingers that reached to caress his cheeks.

Every single one of his breaths and heartbeats thundered. He blinked in an attempt to focus. He saw Ermac's countenance through the haze. The Outworlder's hands were radiating. He drove one into Kang's gut.

The mist disappeared. He could see and hear again. The world was back to normal. Kang just wanted to lie down until his head stopped pounding.

Ermac grabbed his head with the radiating hand that glowed more and more. Kang started to pulsate violently; he could only see darkness. He banged into something hard, like rock. Ermac had thrown him to the ground.

Kang moaned and wheezed. His ears were ringing; he could taste sour bile. His body had been submerged in complete, dull pain. He needed to get up.

_Get up, get up… You'll lose if you don't get up._

Kang tried to straighten his arms and shove his frame up. He told himself it wasn't so bad. Sure, he was hurting, but he'd experienced worse. Okay, his head throbbed and he was on the verge of puking, but it wasn't real. It was an illusion. His mind was playing tricks on him; he must rinse it out.

_Get up, get up… Don't let emotions and deceptions control you._

He stood up again on wobbly legs. He inhaled.

Ermac tilted his head to the side as he studied him, looking almost as if he was asking himself how this puny human was still standing up. He raised his arm to attack one last time.

Kang propelled the fireball with a yell; it hit Ermac square in the chest. The sudden blow made him bend over a little. Kang raced forward, punched his face one, two, three times, with a fourth blow to the jaw.  He uppercut, vaulted back and kicked Ermac’s head, ending with a kick to the chin. He reversed a few steps, then leapt, kicking the Outworlder's torso several times, pushing him back. Stepping back, he charged his fists and threw the largest fireball he had summoned yet.

After the fire receded, Ermac fell to the ground, to his knees, with one arm clutching his abdomen. A large patch of his robe was burnt off, leaving a pallid complexion exposed. He panted.

"We… admit defeat…" he said, croaking out the words.

Kang looked to the podium. Shang Tsung was wearing a dour expression, while Raiden nodded to him contentedly. Kang smiled at him, then whirled around and scampered out to the courtyard to dunk his head in the fountain that was located in one of the corners.

The water was chilling. Everything above the surface died down as the liquid muffled every single sound. He exhaled, watching the air bubbles drift upwards. He closed his eyes. The images of the departed were still glued to his retinas, their voices still echoed in his ears. Every trace had to be washed away.

He felt a hand on his shoulder; it yanked him up. Lao was staring at him with huge eyes.

"Are you okay?!"

Kang coughed as he pushed his soaking hair out of his face.

"Yes," he said. "Let's go back."

A few people snickered at him when they returned to the arena, while others beamed inspiringly and slapped his back. One woman even hugged him.

Johnny chucked the towel onto his head, with the side streaked with blood up, thankfully, and started rubbing him dry.

"Good to go!" he said with a grin, giving the thumbs up when most of the water had been absorbed.

"Thanks," Kang said. He took a breath to calm the last of his stirring nerves, before walking back to the arena.

Shang Tsung leaned forward on his throne, looking at him with narrowed eyes.

"I am astonished," he said coolly. "It has been centuries since an Earthrealmer progressed this far. The fate of a realm lies in your hands…" He smirked, his gaze pitiless. "It is a heavy burden to bear."

Kang drew himself up, glaring at the sorcerer.

"I am ready!"

Shang Tsung's smile faded. He leaned back again with a mien made out of stone.

"Goro," he called.

From the courtyard, the reigning champion appeared. An opulent cape hung from his shoulders. He slowly walked to the arena, causing the spectators to scatter before him. He took his place whilst he stared at Kang with hollow black eyes.

"Shaolin," he said. Kang wondered if it was his intention to boom like that, or was it just the way he naturally sounded? "Impressive."

Kang broadened his stance, brought up his arms whilst stretching his hands and fingers. He gave the Shokan a determined look.

Goro removed the cape with his upper right arm and threw it to the side.

"You will die like the warrior you are."

Kang closed his eyes, trying to empty the last of his mind.

_Focus… Focus and breathe. You will do this._

Shang Tsung elevated his arm towards them. He looked between the two fighters, seeming proud. Assured.

_Give that sorcerer something to smile about._

" _Fight!_ "

Goro leapt forward. Kang hopped back, just out of the way for the Shokan who landed with a crash, leaving the stones cracked and dented. Kang backpedaled, his palms heating up. He hurled three fireballs; all of them hit – one in the shoulder and two in the chest – but Goro seemed barely affected. He had long legs that took long strides, but he was still slow to dodge, as well as a big target. However, what good did that when he also was so robust that neither projectiles nor punches had any impact on him?

Goro closed in with all four arms reaching for him, swinging and grabbing. Kang scuttled back, throwing more fire. Goro pursued, extending his arm for a blow. Kang ducked, sprinting to the side. He ran, sprung, vaulted around the arena, chucked fireballs whenever he could. Then sparks exploded in front of his eyes.

Goro had whacked the side of his head with his giant palm. Kang staggered, trying to figure out what was up and what was down so he could regain his balance. Goro kicked his thorax and swept a hand at his legs, knocking him off his feet. He fell flat to the ground. Goro raised his four arms and forcefully brought them down on Kang, who rolled away at the last second. The stones he'd been lying on ruptured.

Kang jumped up to punch the Shokan's knee. Goro grunted in response. He aimed for Kang's head to pummel him into the floor, but Kang sidestepped. He kicked the giants shin, his knee, thrust an elbow into his ribs, then kicked him in the stomach. Goro yelled in pain; Kang mutely cheered that the strikes hadn't been a waste of energy. He fell back, throwing more balls of fire at Goro's chest and head.

Goro roared, flexed his upper arms before pounding his fists into the ground. The terrain shook. Kang toppled, needed to crouch down in order not to completely loose his footing. Goro leapt again, seizing Kang's legs and snatching him off the ground. Gripping his face, he smashed him into the ground, then flung him across the arena. Kang sluggishly got to his feet. Large bruises were developing on his arms; he was sure there'd be more on his upper body. It hurt to walk and to breathe – and Goro had been holding back. Kang knew that because he was still alive. He sent two small fireballs against the Shokan's legs; they appeared the most vulnerable.

Goro rushed forth, holding his arms outstretched in the air while spinning. Three fists hit Kang's head; he dodged the next, then blocked two more. He stooped under the limbs to kick Goro's shin and knee. The Shokan halted with a bellow. Kang punched his stomach, punched his knee, then spun and kicked him in the side.

Goro growled. Kang moved to retreat and use more fireballs before advancing again, when Goro drove his right fists into his stomach. Kang doubled over, folded around his opponent's hand, eyes bulging out. The vomit rose in his throat; he attempted swallowing it down again, but a little still seeped out from the corner of his mouth. Goro uppercut, punched his head, kicked his face, then grabbed his arms and heaved him off the ground. He threw him up in the air, took hold of his legs before he plummeted, and slammed him into one of the stone pillars. After that, the podium, right in front of Raiden. The wooden planks split in half beneath him. Goro pulled him up again, begun whirling him over his head, before finally stopping and getting ready to slam him into the ground.

Hanging and dangling above the Shokan's head, Kang forced a flame to life in his palm. Right as Goro motioned to bash him into the stones Kang smacked his hand against his face, only just missing his eye. Goro dropped him with a scream to press his hands to the wound. Kang bounced onto the floor, scrambled to get up and into a proper stance, but immediately fell back to his knees.

He gasped for air. The world was spinning; he could taste blood. A few tears squeezed their way out from his eyes. Towering before him, Goro removed his hand to reveal a red, hand-shaped mark on his face. He scowled, muttering something. He looked down at Kang. Raised a fist.

This was it. It couldn't be it. Kang didn't want it to end like this. To have come this far only to lose everything, for everyone. He  _refused_.

Kang rolled out of the way for the punch which pulverized the stone tiles. Goro aimed another blow; Kang tumbled between his legs. He stood up, ignoring how much all of him hurt. Goro turned around and Kang kicked his groin. The Shokan groaned. Kang kicked his stomach, then jump kicked his arm. Goro stretched to catch him, but Kang twirled around him, hopped up to grab his lower left arm. As the Shokan tried to reach him, he put one foot where the arm connected to the body, the other foot on the elbow, grabbed the wrist, and pulled.

There was a snap, a crack. The arm gave way. Goro  _howled_.

Grabbing Kang, he tossed him away. Kang tumbled along the arena. When he looked up, he saw Goro on his knees, clutching the fractured limb. He was moaning, roaring, and wailing at the same time.

He'd done it. He broke his arm.

_I broke his arm!_

Goro looked at him, snarling and about to shout something. Kang interrupted with his fireballs, although most of them flying past without touching his opponent. So instead he lunged, cartwheeling forward to kick Goro in the chin. Then he stood, summoned flames so warm they were turning blue, and punched Goro straight in the face.

The Shokan sunk to the ground, and didn't rise again.

Kang panted. His body quivered. He gazed up at the podium. Shang Tsung was quivering too, staring daggers at Goro. Raiden, on the other hand, began clapping. Soon, everybody followed suit.

Kang started laughing. He felt his legs cave in, but Lao caught him before he collapsed. The others flocked around him. Jax gently ruffled his hair. Nightwolf smiled as he helped steady him. Sonya beamed, almost looking a bit teary. Johnny grabbed him by the shoulders and kissed his forehead.

The audience cheered, whistled, and applauded. It was incredibly noisy, Kang felt the initiation of a headache, but he still didn't want them to stop.

Shang Tsung stood up. Everybody went quiet.

"Well done, Liu Kang," he said in a silky-smooth tone. "You have progressed to the finale. You and I will face each other later this evening." Something sinister flashed in his eyes. "May the  _best_  man win."

Kang grimaced. He straightened up as much as he could to glare properly at the sorcerer. He didn't want to wait! He wanted it over and done with now, at this instant! He was on the verge of telling Shang Tsung that, when Raiden stepped down to embrace him.

"That was great," he murmured as he patted Kang's back.

Kang groaned.

"I don't want to wait… I can take him now!"

"No," Raiden said. He lifted Kang up and carried him off the arena, bridal style. "It is tradition to have the finale in the evening, inside the castle. No arguments."

Kang muttered unintelligibly. Lao ran up beside them, his eyes burning with pride. He grinned at Kang.

"It was better than great!" he said. "You beat Goro! Do you realize that? Goro!"

Kang hummed and bobbed his head listlessly. Lao took his hand, squeezing it firmly.

"You have made our ancestors proud today…" he whispered.

Kang chuckled. Perhaps he had. It would be even better, tonight. After some rest and water, and maybe a little healing salve for his aching everything. Then he would fight that snake of a sorcerer, and kick him all the way back to Outworld.

* * *

Kitana yawned whilst she walked down the large eastern hallway on her way to the dining room, Jade close behind her. She pulled off her headdress, let her hair down, and massaged her scalp. Her roots were sensitive after having been pulled taut for a whole day.

"Tired?" Jade asked, coming up on Kitana's right.

"I suppose…" she said. "It has been a long day."

As they drew near to the doors leading to the dining room Jade picked up her pace, getting a few steps ahead.

"It will soon be over," she said whilst she opened the doors for Kitana.

Excluding Shang Tsung, everyone else had already arrived. Reptile was wandering to and fro, ranting restlessly, in front of Baraka, who was sitting on one of the window ledges and whetting his left blade with a stone.

"This is a disaster!" Reptile said. "After centuries of vying for Earthrealm we finally manage nine consecutive victories, and then…  _this_  happens! The Emperor will be livid!"

Baraka shifted positions to start honing his right blade with a snort.

"Yeah, and I wonder whom he'll be the most displeased with. Perhaps the one who lost his  _first and only match_ ," he said, scowling at the Saurian.

Reptile whirled around, hissing at Baraka.

"That is- I was-" he said, heatedly tripping over his tongue. "I didn't expect to compete! My primary task was to observe! My orders were to… to ensure…"

He trailed off, his shoulders slouching. He looked down at his hands, for a moment appearing to be overcome with distress. He snapped out of it with a glower.

"And how could I predict that ridiculous human would actually be competent?!" He pointed at Baraka. " _You_  had seen him fight, yet you  _still_  lost!"

Baraka's face contorted with rage. He jumped from the ledge, marched up to Reptile, and grabbed the neck of his shirt, his arm at a dangerous angle.

" _Are you calling me weak?_ " he yelled.

Reptile bared his fangs.

"And I  _wouldn't_  be the  _first_  to do so!"

Kitana sighed at their antics. She continued over to the dining table as Baraka hoisted Reptile off the floor, demanding he take that back – or else!

Goro and Mileena were sitting at the table. Goro was positioned at the short end with his arm in a cast and a pained expression. Mileena was hunched over the table with her head resting on her arms, her eyes closed and her face bare. Jade steered towards the seat on Mileena's immediate right. Kitana chose the one opposite her little sister, her chair pulling out by itself.

"Thank you, Ermac," she said as she sat down.

Ermac, sitting cross-legged in the air with a book suspended in front of him, briefly looked up to acknowledge her.

Reptile and Baraka's argument went on with no sign of coming to a halt. Goro grumbled silently, placing his cheek in his upper right palm whilst rolling his eyes. Kitana sent him a sympathetic look. It wasn't merely his injury that was causing him distress. She could practically hear his thoughts.

_Noise, noise, noise…_

Apparently Mileena agreed with him. She sat up with a groan, and banged her fists into the table.

"Enough, you two!" she snapped.

Reptile and Baraka recoiled at the noise. Kitana, even though she saw it coming, also flinched a little. Baraka averted his gaze whilst attempting to nonchalantly sit down at the ledge again. Reptile visibly shrunk, mumbling his apologies for having disturbed her.

"Who cares if you are all pathetic failures," Mileena said, ignoring Kitana's look of admonishment. "It's all over and done with. And we still have the finale."

"Yes, but," Reptile said, gesturing to Goro. "If that human could defeat  _Goro_ , how probable will it be for Shang Tsung to-"

He interrupted himself and turned to look at the door, as if he expected Shang Tsung to burst into the room at any given second.

"He is not nearby," Ermac said with his nose still deep within the pages as the silence dragged on.

Reptile still eyed the doors for another heartbeat before continuing to speak.

"There is a risk Shang Tsung will not be able to emerge victorious," he said in a hushed tone.

Baraka grunted.

"So why don't you just sneak into the kid's room and kill him if you're so worried?"

Reptile blinked rapidly, before tentatively looking at the ceiling.

"Impossible. The Thunder God won't let him out of sight until he's won, surely," he said whilst he peered at Kitana. She prayed her cheeks didn't look as red as they felt hot. She knew he hadn't told anyone about her speaking to Kang, except possibly Jade. But if so, Kitana knew she would have reassured him she had the whole thing under control. Thankfully.

Mileena crossed her arms.

"Oh well. I guess it will be Goro's fault if we lose Earthrealm, in that case."

Goro scoffed in response.

"I will not be disgraced. The human was skilled and noble. He fought valiantly for his people. And he won… fairly," he said very gallantly, but couldn't prevent a hint of resentment from creeping in at the end.

Kitana leaned forward in her chair, looking everyone in the eye.

"Please," she said. "It is no one's fault. You have fought to the best of your abilities, and shown great devotion to the Empire. Father knows of this loyalty. None of you will be blamed." She looked around the room. She could tell they weren't completely convinced, but the atmosphere did become much calmer. She leaned back with a smile aimed at her sister. "Besides, Mileena is right. We still have the finale. Outworld has not lost yet."

Mileena put her elbows on the table, laced her fingers together, and placed her chin on her hands. Her expression turned ill-boding.

" _Of course_  I'm right. And so are you, dear sister. We won't lose until Shang Tsung does," she said, her mien becoming outright malicious. "Which means, should we suffer defeat, it will be  _his_  fault."

Kitana's smile melted away; she gave her sister a stern look.

Baraka snickered and shrugged his shoulders.

"Fine by me."

"I can live with that," Reptile said, sounding uplifted.

"An acceptable loss," Jade noted evenly while cleaning some dirt from beneath her nails.

"Indeed," Goro said with a nod.

Ermac's sole contribution was to drop the book he was reading – one of Shang Tsung's sorcery manuscripts – to the floor and beckon for another from the bookcase on the other end of the room.

Kitana sighed, then giggled, and hid her face in her hands. Oh, how horrible they were.

Ermac looked up from his book.

"Mileena," was all he had time to say before the doors opened, and Shang Tsung and that man from Earthrealm stepped inside.

Mileena dove for her veil on the table. She tried to frantically put it on, Jade holding her hair up so she could tie it more easily. She glared at Shang Tsung, who took no notice of her. He walked to his chair on the short side opposite Goro, surprisingly serene given the circumstances.

"I am not unfamiliar with your kind of merchandise, and I admit they are effective," he said to the Earthrealmer as he sat down. "However, I find it doubtful they will be as beneficial as you maintain – specifically for such a price."

The Earthrealmer sniggered, perching himself on the edge of the table a few lengths away from Kitana. It was a challenge not to scrunch up her nose, particularly as the man brazenly leered at her chest before answering.

"Completely understand your hesitancy," he said. "I've seen what you can do too, an' it's impressive. But, y'see, there are a few things only  _my_  kind of magic can accomplish."

Shang Tsung raised a brow, and gestured for him to elaborate.

"They're more efficient: fast, durable, destructive! One well-placed shot an' I can demolish this whole castle of yours in just a couple of seconds," he said. "An' it can be done over an' over again, just like this!" He snapped his fingers.

"Moreover," the man continued, "Earth's more likely to take you seriously if you have weapons to rival their own.  _And,_  you'll have an advantage over every other, less technically developed, realm."

It was Shang Tsung's turn to chuckle lowly.

"That would be agreeable," he said.

The Earthrealmer grinned.

"Now, I don't know how quickly you can cast a spell or however you do it, but one of these…" He pulled out a black, bizarrely shaped object from his vest. "May I demonstrate?"

Shang Tsung waved his hand in approval. The Earthrealmer directed the object at Baraka. There was an earsplitting bang, even Jade and Shang Tsung twitched at the noise. A light stream of smoke was coming from the object. In the wall, less than a thumb away from Baraka's head, was a hole.

"You saw the black guy," the man said. "Took care of the little red one in no time. If he'd done it again, an' aimed at the head…" He motioned to Baraka. "Ugly over there would've been defenseless."

Baraka rose with a growl at the last word. The blades moved beneath his skin. He was prepared to attack, and would have too had Reptile not been so quick with physically restraining him.

Kitana drew a shaky breath. She looked at her equally shocked sister. They locked eyes, thinking the same thing.

_Shang Tsung must be mad to do business with this creature!_

Shang Tsung laughed. He leaned forward in his seat.

"Very well," he said, eyes glinting. "Mr. Kano, you have convinced me. I am interested in your merchandise."

Oh. Well. That settled it, did it not?

Shang Tsung clapped his hands. From the smaller side-door, a dozen servants emerged to distribute the dishes for the evening and provide everyone with goblets filled with spicy red wine.

Shang Tsung raised his cup.

"To Outworld, profit…" He motioned to the Earthrealmer called Kano. "And  _victory!_ "

"Amen," Kano said before he chugged his wine.

Kitana took a small sip as she watched her little sister who sat tense with her arms crossed, simultaneously refusing and unable to drink.

Kitana beheld the drinking sorcerer, promising herself she would remember to let Mileena know she was lucky. The liquid was foul and too strong – it burned your throat as you downed it.

Shang Tsung ordered the servants to uncover the food and leave. Kitana consumed hers as quickly as courtesy would allow; when she excused herself, Mileena slunk out with her.

They hurried to Mileena's bedroom, asking a maid on the way to have some bread rolls, cheese, and fruit sent to them. Half an hour later, they parked themselves on the woolly rug to eat.

"Do you think Shang Tsung actually has a chance to beat your man?" Mileena asked as she sunk her teeth into one of the hot buns and gulped down the sweet grape juice.

Kitana flushed. Her sister giggled.

"He's not 'my man'…" she mumbled.

"Yes, yes, sure," Mileena said. "But what do you think?"

Kitana popped a berry into her mouth, allowing it to melt on her tongue as she mulled over the question. She was obligated to ask herself if her opinions truly were opinions, or emotions running where they should not.

At last, she shrugged.

"I think… that we will simply have to wait and see."

* * *

The inside of Shang Tsung's castle was as grand as the outside. Everywhere you turned there were columns in fine wood, lavish curtains, thick carpets, and countless artworks filling the walls. There was a lot of time to admire all the paintings and statues as well, because the castle was big and the throne room where the last match of the tournament would take place lay furthest in.

As the surviving Earthrealmers were led through the never-ending corridor, Kang wallowed in everything Raiden had told him about Shang Tsung.

He was a sorcerer, which meant his strength was his magic. Kang was physically more capable, which was his trump card. But Shang Tsung still had numerous tricks up his sleeve that needed to be taken into account, so Kang needed to be alert. Most importantly, Shang Tsung could not be allowed to touch him.

" _So make sure you stay out of reach for him!_ " Raiden had said. Kang refrained from pointing out that "staying out of reach" was easier said than done when dealing with Outworlders.

Shang Tsung sat on a throne like the one by the arena, with the Princesses on each side and guards surrounding them.

"Liu Kang!" he said. He stepped down from the throne, and Raiden took his place as announcer. "Still disinclined to surrender, I see."

"That's right," Kang said, assuming a stance. "I demand you face me in Mortal Kombat."

Shang Tsung sneered. "I will have your soul,  _boy!_ "

Raiden looked between them. He breathed in deeply.

"Begin!"

Shang Tsung whispered something inaudible; the floor between him and Kang caught fire. It molded into an elongated shape that writhed and squirmed. When fire died down a giant cobra rose up. It hissed at Kang, its hood expanded.

The cobra struck. Kang threw himself to the side, rolled, then got up and ran. The cobra followed, speedily slithering after and attacking at every opportunity. It lunged for him; Kang moved away, vaulted over its body, ducked for the tail, zigzagged forward. Something whooshed past his head. Shang Tsung, standing in the same spot as before, summoned another burning skull in his hand. He hurled it at Kang, who sidestepped before conjuring his own ball of fire. He threw it, but the cobra stuck its head in front of its master to protect him. The fireball hit the cobra between the eyes; it screeched with pain. So fire  _did_  still hurt it!

Kang jumped back, lobbing fireballs in rapid succession. The cobra recoiled with every hit, shrieking as it trashed about. At last, it collapsed and burned up with a shrill cry.

Kang twisted around. Where was Shang Tsung? Turning, he saw the sorcerer come flying out of a portal of fire before punching him in the face and kicking his chin. It was surprisingly sprightly for an old man!

The sorcerer's features shifted, his clothes changed shape and color. Soon another man, a samurai, stood in his place. He drew his sword; Kang avoided the blade by jumping back. Shang Tsung slashed after him, but Kang dodged and chucked two fireballs. Shang Tsung hacked at his shoulder. Kang twirled and got behind the sorcerer, throwing more fire at his back. Shang Tsung grunted. The armor gave added protection, but it also slowed him down. He blocked a fireball with his sword, then shapeshifted again, this time into a dark-skinned man in workout clothes. The body was tall and slim, and much faster. Shang Tsung darted at Kang, kicked his stomach and face, punched him twice, finished with an uppercut. Kang threw a small fireball as he stumbled back; it hit Shang Tsung's shoulder. After regaining his balance Kang advanced, punching Shang Tsung's throat and face, kicking his head. He punched again, his chest, head, arm, stomach, lastly punching his knee. Shang Tsung summoned another skull; Kang blocked it with his own fire. He dove, kicked the sorcerer's knee, shin, punched the knee, kicked his head, then spun and punched his chest.

The young man gritted his teeth, suddenly becoming canines. Shang Tsung grew into a monster, bigger than Goro, with dark wispy fur, protruding eyes, and fangs as long as Kang's arm. The monster bashed a fist into the ground, causing the whole castle to shake. It swept its arm, whacking Kang to the ground. Shang Tsung tried to flatten him, but he tumbled to the side before scrambling to his feet. Shang Tsung brought down his fist; Kang dodged and jumped over it. The monster took a table from the other end of the room and threw it at him. He destroyed it with a fireball, then threw four more at Shang Tsung.

Shang Tsung sprung forth, landed in front of Kang, and snatched him off the ground. The giant fist closed around him. Kang screamed as he was crushed. Shang Tsung laughed, before he cried out as well, releasing Kang from his grip. The stench of burnt hair oozed from his hand whilst puffs of smoke swirled up to the ceiling.

Kang rushed to the other end of the room. He supported himself against a column, sucking in air. He pressed a hand to his side. Did he have any un-cracked ribs left?

The monster growled at him as it shrunk into the shape of a muscular, shorthaired woman. She smiled wickedly, before opening her mouth. A blinding light shot out; Kang barely had time to duck. The beam hit the column, leaving a hole the size of Kang's head going right through it. Kang ran as Shang Tsung shot beams after him. One came at his feet; he dove forward, tumbling back upright again. He stood just as Shang Tsung thrust an elbow into his face. The sorcerer brought his fists on Kang's head from above, spun and kicked his torso, elbowed his chest, kicked his chin, kneed him in the stomach, and swept one leg across his feet, tripping him.

A hand circled around Kang's throat and lifted him from the ground. Shang Tsung shifted back to his own old, graying shape. He stared at Kang, eyes about to burst. He wasn't gripping Kang's neck very tightly, yet the monk couldn't breathe. Something was stuck in his throat, blocking all air. His body became heavy and cold. Claws inside of him were scraping at his bones and organs. Everything he knew was fading from his mind.

Raiden's face flashed before him.

 _"Stay out of reach, don't let him touch you,"_  he said.

Kang wanted to react to the advice, but he was too stiff for his muscles to obey. He struggled to stay awake, but his eyes demanded to close; he slipped into darkness.

_Don't let him touch you, because if you do, Shang Tsung the Soul Stealer will have you dead in an instant._

Kang tried to inhale again, slowly. Calmly. Focus, focus and don't panic.

Heat in his palm. A light flaring in front of his eyelids. A muted yell.

He sagged to the floor, heaving in oxygen. His perception was bleary, his limbs trembled, but he forced himself up.

Shang Tsung looked at him furiously. His beard was singeing; his nose and eyebrows were scorched. His flesh begun altering itself again. Kang propelled himself forward. Before the sorcerer could shift, Kang punched his stomach, kicked his knee, punched it, jump kicked his head, punched him twice, then spun and hit his torso so vigorously the old man fell down.

He began rising again. Kang took three steps back, then ran and jumped. He flew forth and kicked the sorcerer's head, knocking him to the ground.

Shang Tsung groaned as Kang grabbed the collar of his robe, his other fist raised and ablaze.

"Must I?" he asked, eyes narrowed.

Shang Tsung glared at him. He breathed in deeply.

"I… concede."

Kang let the sorcerer down with a thump. He staggered back, gulping air.

He'd done it. He'd won. He _saved_  Earthrealm!

He was hoisted into the air. Raiden pressed Kang against his chest, squeezed so it hurt, laughing louder than Kang had ever heard him laugh before.

He was let down. The remaining humans flocked around him – cheering, laughing, and congratulating him. Someone clutched his shoulders to turn him around.

Tears streamed down Lao's face. He wrapped his arms around Kang's neck, resting his forehead against Kang's. He sniffled as he laughed.

"You see! I  _told_  you! I  _knew_  you'd make it!"

Kang nodded, or attempted to nod, letting out a breathy chuckle. He blinked rapidly, but started crying anyway. Lao pulled him even closer to hug him, though gentler than Raiden had done, whilst stroking his back, whispering that it was over and they could go home now.

Next to the throne, a portal opened. The Outworlders walked into it, with some guards carrying Shang Tsung through.

At last, it was Kitana's turn. Right as she was about to step inside the portal, she halted and turned to look at the crowd of Earthrealmers. Or more precisely, she looked at Kang.

After locking their eyes together, the skin by her eyes crinkled. She took a quick look to the left, to the right, then hastily lifted her hand and waved at him. Kang grinned. She cast her eyes to the ground, brushing at her bangs. Then she walked into the swirling mass of colors and disappeared.


	6. Peace Before A Storm

** Chapter 6 – Peace Before A Storm, or  **

** Woe Runneth Over **

 

Every breath Tshiamo took was a cut in his lungs. He could tell one of them was punctured. His knees scraped against the floor. His left leg was at an odd angle, the bone possibly protruding. He wasn’t sure since his whole lower body was numb and his eyes were too tired to see. The blood on his arm had already coagulated. Some more blood dribbled down the corner of his mouth. He didn’t have the energy to spit it out.

He didn’t fight or resist. He made himself as relaxed – and heavy – as possible, just to give his former comrades some extra weight as they dragged him through the hallway to the Grand Chamber.

Doors opened. Finally, they stopped.

Tshiamo could feel the presence of many, perhaps the whole clan. Not very surprising. After all, everyone must witness what happened if you tried to go against the clan’s wishes.

“Grand Master!”

It was Sektor who spoke, the weasel. Sounding pleased with himself, of course.

“I bring before you, a traitor.” There was a pause; the words had to sink in for all the men. “Cyrax not only refused his orders to kill, but also made an attempt to leave the Lin Kuei. His punishment must be of utmost severity!”

There was a faint creaking, a rustle of fabric. Tshiamo pictured the Grand Master leaning forward in his chair.

“Cyrax,” he said in his usual whispering tone. “You disappoint us. I did not expect this of you…” He leaned back again. “Sektor. Where is Sub-Zero?”

Another moment of silence. Sektor could be so annoyingly melodramatic sometimes.

“Dead,” he said, his delivery smug. “At the tournament. His body could not be recovered, sadly.”

Tshiamo would have snorted if he could. He forced his eyes open. His vision blurred. He squinted and blinked. When it cleared enough for him to see again, he turned his head as much as his body would allow.

The men were standing by the side, the closest ones only a few meters away from him. He looked past the first and second row. He saw Tundra.

His back was straight, his head held high, his face was blank, but he was blinking rapidly and his throat kept working. His breaths were agitated.

Smoke stood right next to him, as always. He was hunched over slightly, his jaw locked stiff. He glowered first at Sektor, then his gaze snapped to the Grand Master.

_No… Stay calm. Don’t say anything. Do nothing. Anything will make it worse._

Tshiamo begged silently; it appeared he was heard. Smoke turned to look straight at him. His eyes were both irate and forlorn. He was calling Tshiamo an idiot in his mind. Yes, he was an idiot to think this would work. No one leaves the Lin Kuei.

The Grand Master sighed.

“A great loss,” he said with no emotion behind his words. Smoke went back to glaring at him instead. “Cyrax.”

Tshiamo’s head lolled back. He didn’t care to hear his punishment. All his guesses were too horrible to give any thoughts to. And if he was right, he would soon have no thoughts.

“For your insubordination, you will become the first subject in the Cyber Initiative. Perhaps then you will reach your full potential.”

The Lin Kuei members took a new hold on Tshiamo’s arms and began dragging him out the same way they came. The doors closed behind them, drowning out the Grand Master’s voice as he recited their creed.

At that moment, Tshiamo’s voice returned to him: he emitted a low whimper just as they proceeded down to the laboratory.

* * *

As soon as they were dismissed, Tundra began walking out of the Grand Chamber, his pace brisk but composed. All he needed to do was breathe. Not think – just breathe.

He exited the chamber, quickening his strides to distance himself from the other men.

_Breathe… Breathe…_

Someone snuck up behind him, slinging an arm around his shoulders. Thick and gray smoke enveloped him as Tomas teleported them out of the hallway.

Tundra was trapped in a vertigo the first few seconds after they’d arrived. Nearly twenty years and he still wasn’t used to it. When he felt the ground become solid once more, he straightened up and opened his eyes. Tomas had taken them to their room – his and Bi-Han’s.

It was neat but bare. The floor was empty. Both beds were made. The left side was Bi-Han’s. A cot and a trunk with some clothes, weapons, money, and perhaps a couple of books as its only content. It looked exactly the same as when he left five days ago.

What had they told each other before he went away? Had they spoken at all? Tundra couldn’t remember.

He took two or three reeling steps. He felt light-headed, was he still breathing? His chest was contracting, his windpipe felt thin. All of him, so heavy.

_Breathe… Just relax. Stay calm._

“Hey.” Tomas laid a hand Tundra’s arm, his voice and touch so unexpectedly mild it nearly tore everything down. “Hey, Kuai.”

Tundra turned to look at his friend. He couldn’t speak, needed to brace his body and clamp his mouth shut to keep himself from trembling. He could only answer by humming.

Tomas screwed up his face at him.

“Stop that,” he said. “There’s no one else here!”

Tundra averted his gaze; it was becoming fuzzy, his eyes stung. Tomas cupped his hands around Tundra’s neck, making them face each other. His eyes were glossier than normal.

“And you _know_ I won’t tell.”

Tundra tried to swallow; he barely managed. He was shivering, feeling cold for the first time in years. Before his sight the world was becoming a haze of washed out colors. The air was so stuffy; he parted his lips to inhale. A strangled sob seeped out. Then it flowed over.

Tomas pulled him into a close embrace, arms swathed like a shield around his back. Tundra’s legs buckled and they sagged to the ground together. The tears welled like they would never stop. He wheezed, his throat was so tight he was about to hyperventilate. He buried himself in the crook of Tomas’s neck to muffle the sound.

“How? _Why?_ ” The sound that came out was horrible. He was whining and gasping, but for once he allowed it. “He said it, it was just, just a simple mission, he was supposed to return home, and, and, and I didn’t, didn’t say goodbye, didn’t think, and he, he was supposed to _come back_!”

Tomas rocked him back and forth, his grip tight but still gentle, and shushed softly as he stroked his hair.

Tundra struggled for breath – sobbed, wailed, and gulped down oxygen. He couldn’t remember the last time he cried like this. Couldn’t remember what it was like _not_ to cry.

Eternity passed before he regained control over his own body again. Sluggishly, he moved to untangle himself from his friend’s grip. There was a large, damp patch on the shoulder of Tomas’s uniform.

Tundra cleared his throat. He still sounded hoarse when he spoke.

“I want to find him.”

“Who?”

“Whoever did it.” Tundra shoved himself up from the floor and staggered over to his bed. “I want to find him, and kill him.”

“The masters will never give their consent,” Tomas said as he sat down beside Tundra.

Tundra stared at his brother’s half of the room, clenching his fists.

“I don’t care for their approval.”

A moment of silence passed. Then Tomas chuckled. He bent forward to peer at Tundra, having to push his hair back when it drooped into his face.

“Are you saying you’re going to… break the rules?” He clicked his tongue. “Kuai, I am _aghast._ ”

Tundra wiped away some residue tears as he looked seriously at his friend.

“Will… Will you come with me? It will be dangerous-” He cut himself off when Tomas slapped him over the head.

“You’re really asking that? Numskull! Of course I will!”

“There will be consequences if they find us,” Tundra continued, rubbing his head.

Honestly, “consequences” was putting it mildly. The Grand Master would have their heads for leaving on their own, and while he was grateful for Tomas’s loyalty, he didn’t want to put him at risk.

Tomas scoffed.

“There will be consequences if we stay, too. Who do you think will be among the first to follow Cyrax?” he asked, poking Tundra’s arm.

Tundra wetted his lips, nodding.

“All right. Then we… Then we’ll leave.”

Tomas draped an arm around his shoulders, and rested his head against Tundra’s.

“Just tell me when,” he said.

Tundra closed his eyes. He pictured Bi-Han in his mind, then whatever could be capable of defeating him. It would have to be powerful. But it didn’t matter. He would find it.

And he would kill it.

* * *

Jax had scarcely put one foot past the threshold before Vera threw her arms around his neck and clung to him, her feet dangling more than a foot over the floor. He put all his weight on the right crutch, letting go of the left so it fell to the ground with a clatter, and wrapped his arm around her to press her petite frame against his chest.

“Oh, Jack!” She looked at him, eyes so big and glimmering, and gave him a peck on the lips. “Miller called: they were sure you were dead! He didn’t say it, but I could tell he thought you’d be MIA. I didn’t believe it. I _knew_ you’d be back!”

She released her grip to drop back to the ground. She picked up his crutch and closed the front door behind him, after which she helped him to the couch in the living room.

“But now you must tell me what happened! What was this island you talked about?”

Jax sunk down on the saggy sofa pad. Vera took a seat right by him, tucking her feet in beneath her and leaning her head on his chest. She held his hand, intertwining their fingers.

He had called her at the infirmary to let her know he was all right, and to finally hear her voice again, but what he divulged then could be likened to the blurb on the back of a hardcover. To speak of what happened to him in a hospital didn’t strike him as a good idea. So, they decided that, since he would be out at approximately the same time she’d be back from work, they would meet each other at home. And now she was sitting by his side with an eager expression, doing everything in her power not to bounce in place.

Jax caressed her index finger with his thumb.

“A magical island,” he said. “With a castle and dungeons, and people from another world. We fought them to protect Earth from their leader and keep him from invading us.”

Vera’s mouth was hanging open in a perfect o-shape.

“And you did it? You saved us?”

“I didn’t; a boy I met there did. Got banged up pretty badly, but he made it.”

Vera blew up her cheeks, then slowly puffed the air out. She moved to dangle one leg over the edge of the sofa and stared at the ceiling dreamily.

“What kind of people?” she asked.

“Some of them looked like us. Some of them were very ugly and offbeat.” He glimpsed at her with a chuckle. “I bet you’d have loved it all, my dear.”

She giggled, snuggling closer to him. Then she sat up straight, a slight look of panic on her face.

“But Sonya? How is she? She made it out too, right?”

Jax put his arm around her, pulling her back down whilst kissing her knuckles.

“Sonya is fine,” he said.

Truth be told, she was more than fine. In fact, he was certain the damn woman was already back at the office despite strict orders of rest for at least the coming week.

Vera sighed with relief as she nuzzled into his side. “Good…”

They leaned back against the cushions, sitting even more huddled together than usual. From the radio in the kitchen rang the tune of the rock station. Outside one of the neighbors was mowing the lawn. A jogger with a shepherd ran by, the dog barking merrily.

Jax held his wife tighter. He had hardly scratched the surface. She would want to know the rest, after the initial shock and joy of seeing him again settled. He would show no reluctance in telling her, but he also had no qualms about distracting her for a little while longer.

“Now it’s your turn,” he said. “What happened while I was gone?”

Vera heaved a sigh.

“Oh, not much. Rhonda at work is being annoying again. I wish I could bewitch that woman. Curse her with bad breath and perpetual unpunctuality.” She folded her arms and pursed her lips, glaring out the window at nothing in particular. She turned back to him with a look of recollection. “Oh, and I cleaned the whole entire house out of worry!”

Jax raised an amused brow.

“The whole entire?”

“Yes!” She sent him a facetiously angry glare for not believing her. “I found my green wallet in the umbrella basket. And a flash drive in the cutlery tray. And do you remember my lacy stockings? The white ones?”

“Yes?”

“I found them too.”

Jax scratched his chin. The stubble had gotten pretty severe; it would have to be dealt with. There had been tools for shaving available at the island, but he decided not to. Just in case.

“Ah, how nice,” he said. “Where…?”

Vera put on the blankest expression he’d ever seen. It could have been comical, but she seemed serious.

“You are better off not knowing, hon,” she said grimly, patting his cheek. Then she smiled. “Now, let’s take care of these whiskers! I’ll want to kiss you goodnight later – not cut my lips off!”

* * *

The Wu Shi Academy had never looked so beautiful.

The whole area was so clean and vivid; the grass was so lush. The mountains behind it rocketed up with their tips among the clouds. The sky was bluer than any sky Kang remembered ever having seen. There were friendly faces wherever you turned.

They had arrived home on the Saturday to a warm as well as a rather impressive reception. All the monks, even the masters, gathered outside on the yard in front of the academy to welcome them. It begun with all of them bowing deeply for Kang, which made him feel both strange and embarrassed, and then there had been congratulations.

Hours upon hours of congratulations.

And some chastising, for Lao.

The masters had not been shy in expressing their disappointment in him for venturing to the tournament with no permission. All of them reprimanded him with varying levels of ire, the sole exception being Master Yao, who while not being the oldest master certainly was the most respected. He merely patted the cousins on the shoulder and spoken about how only the most fortunate men have friends so devoted they are willing to face penance for them, because although “ _much of our strength comes from within, a lot also come from without, and that strength is the one that truly feeds us_ ”. Then he winked at them as the other masters begrudgingly agreed.

Lao was nevertheless still punished. His chores would increase for a month, and would include Kang’s as well, since he was too injured to carry them out. Turned out he had cracked a rib, and bruised three more. And that was saying nothing of all the welts, contusions, and other sore spots that covered him.

Lao solemnly accepted all duties. Thus, now, five days later, he was out on the big lawn connected to the Academy, tending to the grass and clearing the weed. Kang was sitting on a bench standing next to the Academy wall, because while he was forbidden from helping his cousin in any way he could still keep him company. Besides, the weather was very nice; some fresh air and warm sunlight was sure to help him heal faster.

The only issue was how when he shifted positions every once in a while, the sun’s rays hit the golden medal he was awarded upon his return.

(Master Yao and Raiden argued for over forty minutes about which of them should grant it at the dinner ceremony the same evening before Raiden was given the honor.)

Whenever it did happen – when he crossed his left leg over his right, which he did often since it was the most comfortable stance he could have – the medal gleamed, reminding him of its presence. That was not to say he didn’t like the medal. On the contrary, he felt proud, honored, and most of all _happy_. However, that did not mean he wished to show it off at all times, or any times really. Receiving the title of Mortal Kombat Champion had done little to change him or his preference for humility.

Lao, on the other hand, didn’t agree; he stayed up late to sew the medal onto Kang’s most favored, only fully intact, belt.

As a result, every time a ray hit the medal and the medal gleamed, Lao would look up from his task to smile amiably at Kang, and Kang would wonder why he ever bothered to do _anything_ nice for the jerk.

The grass rustled behind Lao, causing him to hurry back to work. He quickly relaxed again when it turned to be “only” Raiden strolling towards them.

“Lord Raiden!” Kang said. “You’re back!”

He hopped up from the bench to greet his mentor. He couldn’t help being excited. Sometimes weeks or months passed between visits from the Thunder God.

“Has something happened?” Lao asked.

“No. Just here to see how you are doing, sacrificing some of my incredibly valuable time doing it,” he said, the affection spread thickly. He motioned for Kang to sit down again, before seating himself on the bench.

“And I must say it is reassuring to see you resting as you should,” he gestured to Kang, “and performing your assignments, as you should.” He watched Lao pointedly. Kang almost succeeding in suppressing the snicker when Lao hastily turned his attention to a large wildflower. The only thing missing was for him to start whistling inconspicuously.

Raiden looked at Kang.

“Honestly, my main reason for being here is you,” he said. Kang instantly sobered up. “You are The Champion now. Earthrealm’s Champion, Kang. There are many responsibilities that come with that.”

Kang’s skin prickled. The sun suddenly shone much brighter and hotter than it did two heartbeats ago.

“I am-” He cleared his throat. “I am prepared to assume these responsibilities, Lord Raiden.”

“Good,” the god said, sounding so grave. “You won this tournament, but there will always be another. You must keep training. Not only to stay strong, but become stronger. You might even adopt students of your own in the future. Do you remember the Elder Gods’ gift to you as winner?”

“To not age until the next tournament,” Kang answered quietly.

“You might rival the Outworlders’ age if you play your cards right.”

Kang chewed on his lip. He had made an effort not to think about the Elder Gods’ blessing, and all the implications that followed with it. He cast his eyes to the rigidly clenched fists in his lap. The sun had become obscured by the clouds.

Raiden put a hand on his shoulder.

“It _is_ a heavy burden,” he said. “But less so if there are others to carry it with you.”

He squeezed Kang’s shoulder with a comforting smile. Kang managed to return it just in time for Raiden’s to fade.

“Well,” he said, turning around. “What gives us the pleasure of seeing you again so soon, sorcerer?”

With a knitted brow Kang looked past him. A man – Chinese, in his early thirties, long hair tied back and a goatee – walked towards them.

His heart skipped a beat when he realized who it was.

“Shang Tsung…?”

Sure, the man was younger, standing strong and straight-backed, his face free from lines and furrows, his hair black and not gray. He was clad in a sleeveless vest that uncovered muscular arms instead of a long robe. But Kang recognized the features, the look in his eyes and the way he smiled.

“Raiden,” he said, his voice practically unchanged. “The Kahn has an offer for you.”

“We are not interested.”

Raiden stood up, placing himself between the sorcerer and Kang. Lao also crept closer to Kang, his fingers twitching.

“He proposes one last, immediate, tournament,” Shang Tsung said, unperturbed and without concern for Raiden’s hostile tone. “In Outworld.”

“And you may give your Emperor my regards.”

Most others would have yielded and left after someone as vast as Raiden – god or no – had clearly and vaguely threateningly made their stance on the issue. But Shang Tsung only smiled as he walked over to a tall bush adorned with small lilac flowers. He caressed one of the petals with his index finger.

“If Outworld triumphs, Earthrealm will be absorbed. But if Earthrealm emerges victorious, the Emperor will abstain his claim to it. Entirely and forevermore.”

He plucked the flower off, scrutinizing it as it lay in his palm.

Raiden made a vexed noise.

“ _Farewell,_ Shang Tsung!”

Shang Tsung stared at the blossom for another second, then turned his back on them to walk down the same path he had come. A portal opened up before him.

“You will reconsider, Raiden,” he said as he let the burning flower fall to the ground. “Sooner, or later.”

* * *

Jax carefully took a seat in the old armchair in the living room. Everything had been careful and slow the past four days. Carefully walking down the stairs. Slowly stepping into the shower. Cautiously taking out the garbage.

He stared at his foot. Wriggled it a little. It was still a bit tender, but the swelling had gone down substantially. Honestly, now it was only causing him trouble by feeling inflexible due to the lack of use.

From upstairs he heard the pattering of Vera’s feet as she scurried down. As usual she was speeding around the house in order to get as much done as possible before her shift at the café started, two hours from now. Hang out the laundry, prepare the meat for dinner later tonight, put out food for the stray that roamed the neighborhood, and generally tidy up the small things that caught her eye. Jax would have helped, if he wasn’t painfully aware how he was more likely to aggravate her with his current “at a snail’s pace” kind of movements.

On the radio in the kitchen, one of those new electronic songs was interrupted by static that transformed into a one hit wonder from the early seventies. As Vera scurried out of the kitchen and into the hallway, Jax propped his crutches against the side of the armchair and stood up.

Stiff and sensitive, but not hurting. He smiled.

The one hit wonder was replaced by an instant newscast about a series of bizarre disappearances around the world, which in turn was drowned out by an endeavored groan in the hallway.

“Come on, close!” Vera said between huffs. Jax understood she must be struggling with the overfull wardrobe next to the bathroom. He should clear that out, some day.

“Really, Sir Closet, don’t you know it’s rude to show everything?” Vera asked.

“You need help?” Jax called out to her.

“No, no, no!” she exclaimed. “Strong woman handles herself!”

She took a few steps backwards, coming into his line of sight from the living room, then ran forward and heaved her tiny body at the door. It shut with a click.

“Aha! I beat you! Mwahahaha…”

She popped back into the living room, brightening when she saw him. He walked tentatively towards her.

Felt good.

She closed the remainder of the distance, wrapping her arms around his waist. He responded by lifting her completely off the ground. All these years, and he still marveled over how light she was.

She let her fingers wander fondly over his mouth and nose. She leaned down and kissed him. For a moment, there was nothing but full lips, her fingertips brushing against his jaw, and a whiff of vanilla. It made his chest feel like a furnace.

Who needed feet when you had her?

She looked at him, eyes shimmering playfully.

“We should celebrate,” she said.

“Celebrate what?”

“Life.” She gasped. “I’ve been wanting to go dancing for a while now!”

“And I would love to, my dear” he said. “But I don’t think I’m quite at that stage yet.”

“No, but later! As for now…”

She cocked her head to the side with a grin. The tip of her tongue swept her lower lip.

“The park!”

He chuckled appreciatively.

“A slow walk, a picnic with some wine…” he filled out.

“Just like when we were young.” She pressed her hands against his shoulders, kneading them through his shirt. “Wait, no! Like when we first _met_ ,” she corrected herself.

“Sounds wonderful. To the weekend?”

“Yes, Saturday. We’ll need a list for what to buy.”

He let her down on the floor, and watched her leave for the kitchen. A second later he heard the scratch of pen against paper.

“You are not tired of raspberries, are you?” she asked.

“Never!” he answered as he reached for his crutches, wondering where to put them away. Vera laughed.

Then she screamed.

Vera Briggs was not a quiet woman. She laughed, cheered, sang, and screamed very often; Jax could tell every single sound apart. There was the “the murderer just beheaded the last camper” scream, and the “there is an earwig in the bathroom” scream.

This scream was more uncommon. It only meant “danger”.

He hobbled out to the kitchen, where he was met by the sight of a huge black, swirling hole in the wall. Vera stood less than a yard away from it, partly desperate to get away and partly paralyzed by fear.

Out of the hole came a pasty arm, followed by a pasty head, with a small flat nose, beady eyes, and teeth like kitchen scissors.

“ _Vera, run!_ ”

She turned, but the Tarkatan was quick for being so big and snared an arm around her waist. She trashed about, elbowing it in the chest and throat. She fumbled for the knife drawer, but lost her grip when the monster yanked her back.

Jax rushed, but stumbled. He fell down as Vera was pulled closer to the portal. She screamed, shrieked, and called his name, voice growing distant.

When he got back to his feet, Vera was gone and the portal had already closed.

* * *

“I have a feeling you have been slacking due to the tournament being over.”

Raiden paused to take a drink of water from his cup. He looked back down at Lao who was doing push-ups on Kang’s bedroom floor, with his feet elevated off the ground and three decimeter thick books on his back. His arms trembled as he did his 232nd push-up for the evening.

“I am upset! Surely, you must realize more threats can arise?” Raiden said sternly.

“Lord Raiden, I have not been neglecting my training,” Lao managed to faintly say. “I am as hardworking as I have always been. I give you my word.”

Raiden narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“Kang?”

Kang, lying on his bed and reading a book the god had brought, twisted his head to look at him. He made a thoughtful face.

“I’m not sure, Lord Raiden,” he said. “We usually spur each other on. Now that I am unable to train, he might very well have been slacking off lately.”

“That does it!”

Raiden stood, took another decimeter thick book, and placed it on top of the other three. Lao whimpered. Kang almost pitied him for a second, but then he was blinded by the candlelight reflecting off his medal and changed his mind.

“Now fifty more!” Raiden demanded, his voice cracking at the end with amusement.

“Yes… Lord Raiden…” Lao said, and promptly collapsed. He landed in a heap, covered in books, and didn’t move for several seconds.

Kang sat up to get a better view.

“Did you kill him?” he whispered and giggled at the same time.

Raiden nudged Lao’s head with his foot, then crouched down and poked him in the ribs. Lao nearly folded into himself with laughter.

“That was not fifty,” Raiden said seriously, his voice and expression so deadpan Lao started laughing even more.

There was knock right before the sliding door shot to the side. One of the younger boys stood in the opening.

“Kung Lao?” he said.

“Yes?” Lao answered whilst panting.

“There is a boy from the village here with a message for you. It seems urgent.”

“I see, thank you,” Lao said, jumping to his feet.

Kang and Raiden followed him out to the entrance where, sure enough, the new shop assistant from the store closest to the Academy stood bent over with his hands on his knees, red-faced and wheezing.

The Academy had no phone and received no mail, so whenever someone wanted to reach it they were required to turn to the small grocery store by the foot of the hill where the Academy was located. The employees would subsequently bring the letter or message up the hill and deliver it to them. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, so it was surprising to see the boy so short of breath.

Lao walked up to him to put a hand on his arm, in case he would fall over.

“Would you like some water?” he asked.

The boy vehemently shook his head.

“No, thank you… Mr. Kung?”

“That’s right,” Lao said as he led the boy over to a chair. “You have a message for me?”

“From your cousin!” The boy sunk down, weakly waving a piece of paper in the air with a few words hastily scribbled down. “Awful, awful news!”

“Guiren?” Lao frowned as he took the paper from the boy. “What’s happened? Is he alright?”

“His son! His son! Gone!”

“What?! Jin is gone? How do you mean, ‘gone’?”

“Kidnapped!” The boy wiped his sweaty face. “A hole in the wall opened, and a monster with big fangs came out. It grabbed him! They need your help!”

That must have been the end of the message, for after that the boy slumped over in silence.

‘A monster with big fangs’. It wasn’t difficult to figure out what that meant.

Lao stared at the piece of paper in his hand. He was trembling; his breaths quickened. He crumpled the paper whilst hissing out his words between clenched teeth.

“ _Shang Tsung._ That _bastard!_ ”

Kang glanced up at Raiden. The god’s reaction to the news was almost more disturbing than the news itself.

His face was ashen. His posture was limp and his jaw hung slack. His eyes were emptier than normally, staring out into nothing and seeing even less.

* * *

Both Kang and Lao had been in the United States, but never in New York. Of course, it could hardly be called “visiting New York” when you teleported straight into someone’s home.

Jax’s house was nice. It was clean enough to be sanitary, but also messy enough to be homely. It was narrow, but in a comfortable way rather than a small one. It seemed perfect for two people to live in.

The others were already waiting for them in the living room; Jax and Sonya sat on the sofa, Johnny leaned against an armchair, and Nightwolf stood alone in one of the corners. They looked like you would expect them to: serious and saddened, dressed in “normal” clothes. All except Nightwolf, who wore a tie and waistcoat, the suit jacket hanging folded on his arm, with a pair of square glasses perched on the tip of his nose.

“Raiden.”

Jax sounded rough and gravelly. The lines on his cheeks suggested he had cried. Sonya held onto his hands so her knuckles whitened.

“I do hope you know what’s going on,” Jax said, his throat working feverishly. “They took my wife!”

“And my cousin,” Lao said grimly. “And dozens of others.”

Raiden sighed. He began pacing the room whilst rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“I know. This can be deemed my fault,” he said. Sonya scowled at him, but kept quiet. “Shang Tsung approached with the offer of a second, immediate Mortal Kombat in Outworld. A tournament to end all tournaments. I declined, and this is their answer.”

“Keep kidnapping people until you agree?” Johnny asked, nearly squawking out the question.

“Correct.”

Sonya flew out of her seat.

“They can’t do this!” she yelled. “You said there were rules!”

“There are,” Raiden said. “And Outworld technically has not broken any of them.”

Sonya, who had been on the verge of screaming again, lost her words. Dumbfounded she stared at Raiden with her mouth and eyes wide open.

“Travelling between realms is not forbidden,” he said. “It is done all the time. Even some humans have done it regularly in the past.” He sighed again – heavily. “An Outworlder is just as ‘allowed’ to commit crime in Earthrealm as a human is, according to the Elder Gods. This is not the first time a human has been abducted to another realm”

Sonya slowly descended to the sofa, sitting with a thud and shaking her head in disbelief. Absentmindedly she patted Jax’s leg; he appeared to be close to shedding tears. Raiden stopped by the window to stare out the blinds.

Kang observed his cousin. Lao was glowering at the floor with a hard-set expression. Kang gingerly enclosed his fingers and thumb around Lao’s wrist. Lao didn’t acknowledge it, continuing to stare at the ground, but also didn’t shy away from the touch.

Johnny’s head darted between every other person in the room.

“What, so we’re going to do… nothing?” he asked.

Raiden turned to face him.

“Far from it. We will accept their terms.”

Kang started. “We will?”

“Yes,” Raiden said dourly as he clasped his hands behind his back. “You could argue these people do not matter in the long run. But if we don’t accept, it won’t stop. Shao Kahn might even find other loopholes to abuse.”

Raiden closed his eyes tightly. Kang had never asked if gods got headaches like humans did, but his face gave the impression that they, as a matter of fact, did.

“I must accept and then I will lead us into the beast’s lair,” he mumbled.

Lao detached himself from Kang’s grip and marched up to the Thunder God.

“I will participate this time!” he said. “I will fight!”

Raiden leisurely opened his eyes again to peruse Lao with both brows raised.

“I hope so,” he said. “I am expecting you to.” He looked around the room. “All of you agree to enter one more time?”

“Yes,” Sonya said, to which Jax concurred.

“My agent’s already ready to kill me for not answering her calls,” Johnny said. “Sure.”

Nightwolf calmly nodded in response.

Raiden gestured for Kang to come closer; he put one hand on each of the cousins’ shoulders.

“I will negotiate with Outworld for when the tournament will be,” Raiden said. Kang could sense hints of lightning beginning to crackle around him. He braced himself for the teleportation back to the Wu Shi Academy. “Prepare yourselves. It will be soon.”

* * *

“Are you ready?”

Tomas looked at him inquiringly. Tundra stared at his arm, visualized what would occur in the upcoming hour. He swallowed.

“Yes.”

Tomas put the knife to Tundra’s skin and made a clean, even incision.

Tundra clamped his teeth together, bit down on his tongue so he wouldn’t hiss or moan, and forced himself to stay still.

He had been told once – he wasn’t sure by whom, but not his father or brother, because he knew neither would agree – that it was impossible to be truly immune to pain. You could accustom yourself to it and diminish your reaction. But every blow and cut had their own effect. Regardless of how hardened you were each would bring a new sensation you hadn’t felt before.

No matter what you did, you could never not feel it.

Tundra wasn’t so sure he agreed either. He’d been stabbed relatively few times, but from what he could remember all of them were basically the same experience.

“Done.”

Tomas held up the small mechanism, like a fingernail or less, with the tweezers. He put it down on the towel between them before picking up the needle and thread as Tundra pressed a cloth to his underarm to mop up the blood.

The edge of the cut numbed almost instantly, making the suturing much more bearable. Tomas worked quickly; half a minute later the wound was closed.

One tracker taken care of, one to go.

Tomas held out his arm. “Just go ahead.”

Tundra took the knife and made an equally straight slit as his friend had. Tomas was completely silent for two seconds, then laughed in obvious discomfort.

The tracker escaped to the side, disappearing in the red flesh. Tundra pressed the skin beside the wound; the blood oozed out. Tomas laughed louder. The tiny flat device became visible. Tundra put the tip of the knife beneath it and lifted it up so he could grasp it with the tweezers.

“Sorry,” he said as he doused the cut with disinfectant.

“Meh. I’ve had worse,” Tomas replied, then watched with interest as Tundra stitched him up.

The plan was simple. Move from Tundra and Bi-Han’s bedroom on the third floor to the foyer on the first floor. Exit the headquarters. Travel five hundred meters until they reached the forest border. Teleport away. All this without drawing any attention or having someone notice they were no longer holding the trackers, which would stop transmitting shortly after removal. Tomas had placed their provisions in the forest while on the way to a mission days prior, in the spot they’d teleport, since carrying them would look suspicious.

They needed to teleport from the forest. If they did it from the bedroom, or even the foyer, the distance they’d travel would lessen, and the risk of the Grand Master’s agents finding and retrieving them would grow. Tomas could only teleport so far and often before running out of energy.

They walked down the big west wing corridor on the third floor, pace composed. If they were likely to meet anyone it would be on the first two floors, but Tundra still angled his arm to hide the stitches from view.

Someone came up the stairs – it was one of the senior assassins. Tundra didn’t know his designation. He had a book under his arm and a fresh set of uniforms slung over his shoulder. He was absorbed by a document in his hand, an assignment probably, and took no notice of them when he passed.

Tundra sucked in a breath. Leaping off rooftops, infiltrating buildings, and killing humans that had done him nothing was fine, but walking in his own home made him nervous?

Ridiculous. Bi-Han would have been ashamed.

They reached the staircase. Went down. Immediately came across several other warriors walking, standing about, conversing. Should they too? If they’d been alone, being quiet would make sense, but now he and Tomas were together. Should they talk?

“Y’know, I’ve been wondering,” Tomas said.

“Oh?”

“Is there any place you haven’t been sent to yet that you _really_ want to go to?”

Tundra gave it some thought. It wasn’t something he’d considered before. It rarely mattered where they were dispatched – sightseeing wasn’t exactly part of the job.

They left the staircase. Continued down the second floor.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Iceland?”

It was the first country that popped into his head, so it wasn’t until after he’d said it he realized the unintentional pun. Although, it was Greenland that was actually covered in ice, wasn’t it?

“Or maybe the Netherlands,” he said quickly. “Before it sinks.”

“It’s that far gone?”

They passed some of the smaller training rooms. Tundra shrugged.

“The water levels _are_ rising.”

Tomas chuckled. “Maybe that’s where you should go – the polar ice caps, and save the world from flooding.”

Tundra bit back a smile, almost. Tomas laughed quietly, then looked up. The mirth was wiped off his face.

“Sektor,” he said.

The smaller man was swiftly marching forth, but hadn’t seen them yet. Was he even searching for them? If their trick with the trackers had been discovered it would inevitably be Sektor the Grand Master sent first.

Tundra and Tomas exchanged looks. They were right outside the library. They slunk in.

It was seemingly empty. They zigzagged through the bookcases to the innermost wall, got by the history and geography section, and steered to the small wooden door that led to the infirmary. The infirmary was _not_ empty. A number of men were resting on the bunks, their gradually rising and falling chests the only movements. They dashed through the room, quietly opening the door. In the corner of Tundra’s eye, someone stirred. He crept out after Tomas, closing the door as gently as he could.

They looked back and saw Sektor just as he ran up the staircase.

“What about you?” Tundra asked as he quickened his steps to the stairs leading to the first floor.

“What?” Tomas blinked confusedly before he remembered himself. “Oh, Monaco.”

“Monaco?”

“Yeah. Strange how no one seems to want anyone killed over there, huh?”

Tundra shrugged, then smiled. “You wouldn’t make it.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’d lose yourself in gambling, women, and liquor, and inexplicably die after a week.”

Tomas snorted whilst he skipped the last two steps of the staircase.

“But what a week it would’ve been!”

Tundra looked around. To the left was the Great Chamber with a small cluster outside of it. In front of them was the dining hall, a few men in the process of going inside. Far to the right was the entrance.

They were walking quicker now, just passing the kitchen and the door that led to the basement. The basement, with the laboratory.

How far gone was Cyrax now?

“Hey.”

Tundra spoke with a low voice, so low Tomas must lean in to hear him.

“If you’d known about all this twenty years ago, would you still have joined the Lin Kuei?”

Tomas looked to the ground with a frown.

“You mean, known _everything_?” he asked.

Tundra nodded.

“Well… The strict rules, pompous coworkers, and guaranteed brainwashing _would_ be pretty deterring,” he said. “But I’d probably still join, if I had one good reason.”

“Do you _have_ a good reason?”

“I don’t know – do I?” Tomas asked, nudging Tundra in the side. Tundra cast down his gaze to conceal his smile.

They passed the big training room. The entry was a few strides away.

They would make it.

“Tundra!”

Tundra’s heart jumped to his throat. He halted and casually turned around to face Scales, the man who had called out to him.

“Did you know Sektor is looking for you?” Scales asked.

Tundra crossed his arms, quirking a brow.

“No,” he said. “I haven’t seen him all day.”

“In fact,” Scales glanced at Tomas, “I think he might be looking for both of you.”

Tomas rested his hands on his hips and grinned.

“Well, who’ll be hurting if he gets to look some more?” he said. Scales smirked as answer.

“ _Smoke! Tundra!_ ”

Their heads snapped up.

Sektor stood at the top of the staircase, looking absolutely furious. He pointed at them.

“Scales! Don’t let them escape! They’re traitorous-”

Tundra didn’t hear the rest. Tomas chopped his hand to Scales’s neck and kicked him as he stumbled.

Then they ran.

Men advanced from the left. Tundra shot ice blasts at them, freezing them to the ground. Someone grabbed his shoulder; he spun, punched the man’s face twice before kicking his chest. Further back, Tomas chopped someone’s head, punched his chest, and kicked his face.

A cloud of smoke exploded around them. Tundra heard coughs and yells. He shut his eyes as quickly as he could, but a few tears still poured out. He hiked up his uniform to press the fabric to his mouth and nose. A hand seized his wrist – Tomas’s hand – and guided him out of the smog.

They threw themselves on the door. Stumbling outside, they were met by a dozen other warriors.

Tundra froze the first to attack and pushed him out of the way. He punched a second in the throat and tripped him, kicked a third in the chest and uppercut, trapped a fourth in a wall of ice. He got punched in the jaw and kicked in the back. Someone took his arm, twisting it behind him. He coated his hand in ice to break free. Punched the man and stabbed an icicle in his shoulder. Froze the one behind him.

Tundra looked to the side. Tomas struck his palm into someone’s chest so they shook, then pushed him to the ground. He spun, kicking an incoming warrior in the head. Two grabbed him from behind while a third punched him in the stomach. Tomas writhed, kicked the man in front of him in the groin, and trashed to escape the other two. Tundra threw a blast of ice; it hit one of the men in the face, covering his mouth and nose, smothering him. He staggered back, clawing at the ice. Tomas elbowed the last in the stomach, then grabbed and heaved him to the ground.

“Come on!” he said, panting.

Five hundred meters. Five hundred meters and they would have succeeded.

Tundra got ahead. Behind them more Lin Kuei warriors gushed out in pursuit. He reached the outskirts of the forest, snatching the supplies off the ground behind a large stone. Tomas’s arm hooked around Tundra’s, and they vanished.

Vertigo. Nausea. Tundra sagged to the ground.

They stood on a hill behind a boulder, a small woodland beneath them to the south, the wind whooshing and whining around them.

“We can’t stay put for long,” he said, standing on all fours and willing the ground to be stagnant.

Tomas nodded as he sunk down next to Tundra.

“Just say where to next.”

Where to next.

Tundra straightened up whilst inhaling deeply.

Did they have plan for where to go next? Tundra couldn’t think clearly. His mind was still in the bedroom, in the hallway, in the yard almost getting caught.

Still reading and being silent, not even looking up, when Bi-Han left for the mission.

“We need to find out who did it,” he said.

“The holder of the tournament should know,” Tomas said. “That man who hired them to begin with.”

“Shang Tsung,” Tundra said. “We need to find Shang Tsung.”

He stood. Tomas followed, stretching his arms and cracking his knuckles.

“Scouting. No problem.”

“That will take quite some time, gentlemen.”

They both spun around at the same time.

On top of the boulder, sitting cross-legged with his chin resting on his fist, was the white-haired stranger with the tattered clothes.

Except his clothes weren’t tattered now. He was dressed in green pants, a vest made of red fabric and black leather, and shining silver spaulders and vambraces. His hair was still braided, but his eyes were completely white. He looked at Tundra.

“My most sincere condolences,” he said, actually sounding sad.

“Do you know him?” Tomas murmured.

“Uh…” Tundra couldn’t believe that the man had surprised him like this twice now. “We have met.”

“You are seeking Shang Tsung, correct?” the stranger said. “He is far away, in another world even. Reaching him by mortal means will be difficult.”

Tundra and Tomas exchanged looks. Tomas wordlessly consented. Tundra took a breath and stepped forward.

“But you know where he is?”

“I do,” the stranger said.

“And… you can take us to him?”

“I can.”

The wind had stopped. The sun’s rays were glaring down and the stone they stood on was beginning to turn hot. When the sun was at its highest, the place must be scorching.

Tundra wetted his lips.

“ _Will_ you take us there?”

The stranger smiled.


	7. Missed Your Smile

**Chapter 7 -** **Missed Your Smile, or**

**It Takes Much More To Sate Them**

* * *

 

Vera woke up in a cold and murky place. She had no idea where she was. No wait, that wasn't true. She was in a prison cell. Other people were there, some asleep or unconscious, others sitting up, looking as lost and confused as she felt. Further in, close to the stonewall, a man was pacing back and forth, muttering to himself in a foreign language.

Maybe they had been abducted by aliens? The swirly hole in her kitchen wall certainly _looked_ like something an alien would think up, or at least it did to her.

She pushed herself into a sitting position. She was feeling kind of groggy, but not in pain. Looking around she decided that, if it was aliens, they must be of a primitive kind. The floor was made of earth; the bars to the cell were thick iron with a few rusty patches on them. From outside, she could make out a weak light, soft and flickering, like a fire. A torch!

She was in a dungeon.

Dungeons, swirly holes, and monsters with big teeth and bones that moved beneath their skin. Everything was familiar, things that Jack talked about when he returned from that island.

Maybe not aliens after all.

A shadow in the corner moved, causing her to start. The shadow became immobile again.

She hesitated, then slowly crawled towards it. Her eyes had gotten used to the dim lighting; when she strained to see, she could make out the silhouette of a small human. A boy with his knees drawn up to his chin and arms hugging his legs.

He stared down at the floor, breathing so quietly Vera at first feared he wasn't breathing at all. He was very young, three years old at most. After studying his face, she guessed he was East Asian.

She crawled closer.

"Hey…" she whispered.

The boy flinched. He stared at her warily.

"Hello," she said. "Are you okay? Do you speak English?"

He knitted his brow whilst scrunching up his nose. She reached out her right hand to him. Tentatively, he shook it, saying something Vera didn't understand. Chinese, or maybe Korean? She'd never been able to tell the difference.

She pointed to herself.

"Vera," she said. "Vera. You? Name?"

She pointed at him. He looked unsure, but was about to speak when a loud bang rang from above.

On the other side of the bars a man, probably a guard, bashed his weapon against the iron rods. He looked human, which reinforced Vera's suspicion of where they were, and wore a skeletal mask that covered most of his face.

"Be quiet in there!"

The boy jumped up, pointed at the guard, and started screaming at him. Vera didn't know what he said, but it sounded angry. It wouldn't have surprised her if there were a few obscenities sprinkled in his tirade, his age notwithstanding.

He moved closer to the bars. Vera lunged forward to pull him back to the middle of the cell. The guard, noticeably agitated, was holding a long thin spear that could easily be inserted through the bars to impale someone.

She pressed the boy to her chest, shushing him, but couldn't resist sending the guard a venomous glare.

The guard grumbled something, but left nonetheless.

The boy gazed up at her, his eyes big and shining. He said something in a sweet tone, gently patting the back of her hand. She smiled warmly at him.

Yes, this… this was good. She would watch over him, and he would watch over her.

Because based on what Jack told her, they would need to.

* * *

Kang's first impression of Outworld was… dust.

When the Earthrealm fighters arrived in the great marketplace of Ta Siwang, Outworld's capital, they had to wait over a minute for the whirling dust to settle. Only then could you see the houses in white stone and the colorful stalls filled with flowers, jewelry, fabrics, spices, strongly scented oils, and many other kinds of goods.

They were a fairly large group, some of them looking very out of place. The natives scurried out of their way as they marched up to the Imperial palace, the dust swiveling into the air with each step.

The closer they got to the palace wall, the bigger and nicer the buildings became. In the marketplace, the structures had been everything from adequate to run down but habitable to death traps seconds away from disintegration. Outside the wall, however, all the houses were comfortable, some even luxurious.

Or at least that's what Kang thought until they got inside.

As it turned out, that great wall that reached the sky was not separating the rest of the capital from the palace. It was separating the capital from the palace _area_. The real palace walls were roughly another kilometer away, beyond a long bridge; between the two walls lived the aristocracy. For a kilometer there was nothing but mansions, some of them palaces in their own rights. Gardens, spires, fountains, verandas, all of it in sumptuous whites and golds.

These residents didn't move out of the way. They strode proudly and with purpose – a far greater purpose than the Earthrealmers, surely. One man, tall but skinny, tried to quite literally walk over Lao, almost falling when Lao elbowed him out of the way. He was about to voice his protests, but when met by both Lao and Sonya's, who walked right behind the cousins, fuming glowers he decided to silently be on his way.

Kang worriedly glanced at Lao as they began walking again. Lao's whole stance was taut; his face was hard and intense. His behavior had been mostly unchanged since receiving the news from his cousin. Slowly, he boiled hotter and hotter.

Kang hoped his state of mind wouldn't hamper his performance.

After they crossed the bridge, which didn't have water but a deep chasm beneath it, and Raiden had spoken to the chief sentry, they finally entered the palace grounds, soon looking upon Shao Kahn's Fortress. It was a lot like the noble mansions, except bigger. Bigger towers, bigger garden, bigger windows and gates. In the foyer alone was an enormous double staircase opposite the doors, lots of columns, a fountain, a glass ceiling, and a sundial painted on the floor.

But the thing most noteworthy was probably the Emperor himself.

Shao Kahn towered over every other person in the room, even Raiden. He was brawny and bald, with dark eyes, a hint of red in them, looking out from behind a mask shaped like a skull. His garb was casual: long pants, sandals, and a plain shirt that bared arms as scarred as his head.

He was joined by his daughters, who also looked informal in simple dresses and veils. Kitana stood straight with her hands clasped in front of her, her hair held in place by a buckle. Princess Mileena's hair was loose and wild. One of her hands was on her hip, the other drumming rapidly against her leg.

It was obvious both of them took after their mother.

Flanking Shao Kahn were two men. The one to the left had cropped dark hair and black paint around his eyes, looking short solely when compared to his emperor. He sported a shining red armor and a haughty expression. The man to Kahn's right was blue-skinned, his ears and nose pierced with small bones. He too was casually dressed in a tunic and kilt, his slight armor not at all extravagant. He was merely centimeters shorter than the emperor and kept a solemn disposition.

Lastly, a still young Shang Tsung who managed to appear grand and worthy of notice, despite being surrounded by men much more statuesque than him.

"Raiden," Shao Kahn said, his voice deep and calm, almost like a murmur. "It gladdens me to see you here."

"Who could have stayed away?" Raiden said, his smile so plastered on it looked like it would fall off if he didn't change expressions quickly enough. "Although, your means of invitation left much to be desired."

"Desperate times," Kahn said.

He looked at Shang Tsung, who stepped forth while clearing his throat.

"The final tournament will begin its first round tomorrow. Round two through five will be held the day after that. This evening we want you to rest. Guest rooms have been prepared on the second level." He tilted his chin up. It was hard, resisting the temptation to sock him in the face. "Please, enjoy the food and the environment. Do not be shy to explore the estates. But we do recommend you stay within the gentry." He bared his teeth in a gloating grin. "The Low Streets can be dangerous, particularly after dark."

He turned around, following the Emperor who had already begun walking away from the foyer.

"You will be shown to your chambers by-"

"Where are they?!"

Lao broke away from the group, placing himself in the middle of the hallway. He was breathing heavily, his shoulders and fists shaking. He stared at the gigantic Emperor.

"The hostages," he said. "Where are they?"

Shao Kahn stopped, turned, and inclined his head to look down at Lao.

"They are safe," he said. "Understandably, they will not be released until after the tournament is over."

Lao turned red with anger. He tried to rush after the Emperor, only to have Raiden grab and hold him back. The god shook his head at him as he steered him in the other direction. Shao Kahn barely noticed, already on his way out of the foyer again.

The others followed, except for Kitana who hung back. She gave Kang a pointed look as she moved a few steps closer to him.

"The dungeon," she whispered so subtly he hardly heard it.

"What?" he mouthed back.

She perused her companions, beginning to slowly tail them.

"To the west!" she said, then hurried after her father and sister.

Kang stared as she disappeared behind the corner. The other humans were going into an entirely different corridor. He inhaled, then slowly puffed the air out. He ran after his friends, tapping Lao on the shoulder.

"They're in the western part of the dungeon," he said.

Lao's eyes expanded to the size of plates.

"Are you sure?"

"Um, pretty sure?"

Lao seized Kang's wrist and dragged him into an adjacent corridor. A maid with her hair elaborately braided was standing in front of a bedroom door with a bundle of cloth in her arms. Lao took hold of her arms, spinning her around to make her face him. She dropped the bundle in fright.

"Miss!" he said. "I need to know where the dungeons are!"

"B-below, the lower levels!" she peeped.

"How do I get there?"

"I-in the main hallway, the opening to the right…" She pointed back to the foyer.

Lao instantly took off, Kang following closely behind, both ignoring the maid's frantic shouting of how they mustn't venture there.

Just as she said, there was a large door-less opening in the foyer, watched over by two guards. One of them opened his mouth to shout at them, right before Lao's hat hit his face. It bounced off, hit the other guard, before returning to Lao's hand. He swiftly perched it on his head before jumping over the bodies.

Oh, god. What were they getting into?

Right after the opening was a long, winding staircase that spiraled down into the darkness. It was narrow and steep; Kang nearly stumbled several times as he ran down. Lao was already paces in front him. The further they descended, the stronger the odor of metals, sweat, and something bitter and pungent that stung in your nostrils became.

At the end of the staircase was a long corridor that branched off into numerous thinner corridors. Lao wavered for less than a second before dashing forward. Kang wondered if he had any idea of where they were going, or if they were guided by gut feeling alone. They passed a number of hallways, then Lao took a sudden turn to the right. After dashing twenty meters, they continued to the left. They passed a wooden door that stood ajar, the glow of fire and sound of iron clanking against iron and the sizzling of steam emerging from within.

As they delved deeper underground that pungent smell got stronger. It slowly mixed together with blood and… meat?

They reached a new staircase, which was lower and wider. It led them to an underground lake, or pool, contained in a stone chamber. In the middle of the pool was a bridge, also made of stone. From the ceiling hung chains and hooks, some with cadavers dangling from them. The majority of the carcasses were simply bones and hair, but a few still had patches of flesh or skin left on them. The most notable thing, however, was the water: a dark, sickly green, simmering a little, with gases rising from the surface.

The smell was _appalling_.

On the bridge's halfway point, a group consisting of normal guards, Tarkata, and a few fat men wearing helmets were rolling what seemed to be normal dice.

One of them looked up and shouted at them.

Lao propelled himself forward, rolling on the ground and kicking the first guard coming at him. He jumped up, kicking the next one in the chest. Two more came; he kicked one in the shin and punched his head, then slashed the other with his hat. He rushed forward and vaulted over the others, disappearing through a cavity in the wall similar to the one they came in from.

Kang hurried after him, jumping over the men Lao downed, stopping only to punch a Tarkatan in the head and elbow a guard in the throat.

Lao continued through the tight corridors, going left, straight, right, then left again. The putrid smell that had seemed so constant slowly waned after they left that chamber. Instead it was replaced with earth and humidity. They took another left, finally entering what could only be the dungeons.

Lao cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted: " _Jin! Jin, where are you?_ "

They waited.

A guard came running but was knocked to the floor when Lao's hat smashed into his forehead.

They waited some more.

" _Jin!_ "

A barely audible answer.

Lao sprinted towards the sound. Guards came at them so often Lao's hat spent more time zooming through the air than sitting on his head.

A guard stood in their way. Lao tackled him to the ground and started punching him through the skull mask. Kang stopped to pick up the guard's spear. In the cell right next to them, someone was chattering in Mandarin.

Lao crouched by the bars, stuck his arms through them and hugged Jin the best he could. The boy was dirty but didn't appear injured, sitting in the lap of a petite woman.

Steps closed in from behind. Kang gyrated with the spear, waving without much control in an attempt to fend off the guards.

"Lao, Lao, what is happening? Where are we?"

"There is too much to tell, I'll explain later! Right now, all you need to know is that I'm getting you out of here."

A guard edged closer. Kang smacked his face with the spear's broadside.

"Not now, but later. Okay? I'm not leaving you, but I can't free you until later."

Jin didn't answer at first. Kang peeked back. The boy nodded.

"Okay," he said.

Lao patted his head, then turned his attention to the woman Jin was with.

"Are you Vera Briggs?" he asked in English, which made her start.

"Y-yes?"

"I know Jax," he said. Her face lit up. "We're getting you out of here, soon!"

"Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!"

"Will you see to him?" Lao pointed at Jin.

"Yes, of course! I- _Look out!_ "

The spear was snatched from Kang's hands. Someone punched him in the gut. He was grabbed and slung over someone's shoulder.

"Hey!"

The guard begun carrying him back as two other guards took hold of Lao's arms and pulled him away from the cell, Lao kicking and trashing about.

"Let me go! We're here for the tournament! You can't harm us!" He tried to plunge forward to get close to the bars again, but the guards were too heavy for him to pull along.

"Jin!" he shouted. "Stay with Vera! I'll be back! The day after tomorrow, you'll be free! I promise!"

And so the lengthy journey back to the first level started. The guards refused to let them walk by themselves, even after they'd stopped fighting back, instead lugging them all the way up to the foyer.

"The guest chambers are that way!" one of them snarled when they at last were let down again. He pointed at the hallway in which Raiden went through as he kicked Lao's hat across the floor.

Lao picked it up and brushed it off before putting it on. Waiting until the guards returned to their posts, he looked at Kang with a smile that had been sorely missed.

"Did you see that? They're okay! Just imagine the others when we tell them everybody's okay!"

* * *

Perhaps it was considered ill-mannered to unashamedly see the sights around the palace after the stunt they pulled when they arrived, but Kang couldn't help it. The Imperial garden was if possibly even more exquisite than the one on the island.

The variety of flowers was more extensive. The hedges were thicker and the grass lusher. Unlike the island, this palace had an orchard connected to its garden. Rows of trees bursting with apples, oranges, peaches, cherries, lemons, plums…

The palace was also much more impressive than the castle, mostly because it was so much bigger. Every bedroom for example seemed to have a majestic balcony connected to it. Several balconies were visible from the orchard. One of them had its door ajar, the wind making the white and blue curtains dance on the inside. Kang wondered if that was Kitana's bedroom. The thought made his belly tingle.

He averted his eyes from the balcony. Almost immediately they landed on the actual princess, elegantly strolling over the grassland towards him.

Had she seen him staring at what could be her room? His cheeks heated up.

"H-hi," he said when she reached him.

She pursed her lips.

"I must let you know that when Shang Tsung told you not to be 'shy exploring the estates', he did not mean _all_ of the estates," she said playfully.

He felt his blush deepen. He coughed.

"No, but, um, according to a friend of mine, the dungeons are an absolute must-see."

She pressed her mouth into a thin line and narrowed her eyes at him. Then she snorted through her nose, giggling. It was so cute, Kang was torn between laughing with her and gawking at her with awe.

"You caused a real disturbance," she said after sobering up.

"We did?"

"Mm. After you left, a woman began yelling how her husband and his friends were there to save them. It nearly caused an uproar."

"Oh, um, well, we weren't trying to do that…" He scratched his neck, feeling a bit ashamed for not being able to contain his grin in front of her.

She gently trod over to one of the plum trees, bringing up a hand to caress the bark. She cast him a hesitant glimpse, swallowing.

"You must think me a liar," she said.

Kang's brows flew into his hairline and his jaw dropped. "What? No! Why?"

"I told you my father is a good man, which he verifies by abducting your people." She puckered her brow. "I believe that is not a common occurrence in Earthrealm?"

"Is… Is it in Outworld?"

She shrugged lightly. "Taking hostages is an effective means of gaining the upper hand."

Kang blinked. It appeared she was the daughter of a conqueror after all.

"Uh, no I don't think it happens very often," he said.

She smiled joylessly. Looking to the ground, she distractedly began fiddling with her bracelet.

"My father has gone too far," she said.

Kang opened his mouth, then closed it. He wanted to throw his arms in the air and scream " _Yes! Duh! He's kidnapped senior citizens and toddlers! Of course he has!_ ", but opted to let her finish instead.

"His desire to merge with Earthrealm… has become an obsession. It is harmful for both Earthrealm and Outworld. I believe… I believe it would be best for him if he lost Earthrealm. Fully." She inhaled deeply. "I wish to help."

"You do?"

"Yes. I can not cause Outworld to lose – that would be disgraceful. But I can request for the fighters to spare their opponents." Her lips tugged upward, genuinely this time. "After that I can merely hold hope that Earthrealm will be the one to prevail."

"You can _do_ that?" He couldn't believe it; it sounded too good to be true.

"Yes!" she said, appearing certain. "I know many of the competitors personally. If I ask them, they will comply. Most of them."

Kang was close to crying with happiness. Sure, it wasn't a guaranteed victory, but people would survive! They would live! And it would help the morale! Last time, when the numbers began to dwindle everything slowly felt more and more hopeless. But now, if their comrades didn't die…

He seized her hands in his, clasping them tightly, inadvertently drawing her closer in the process.

"That would be amazing! Thank you!"

He squeezed her hands some more as he stared into her large, beautiful, very shocked eyes.

He became aware of what he was doing. He promptly let go of her, leaping half a meter away to give space for good measure.

Stunned, Kitana brought her hands to her chest. She diverted her eyes to the ground, her face flushing, whilst picking at her bracelet again. It was a thin silver chain with many small gemstones in blue, green, purple, and pink hanging from it. He recognized it. Thinking back, he realized she'd worn it every time he'd seen her so far. His only excuse was that it was easier to spot now that her arms were otherwise bare.

She glanced up at him from beneath her lashes.

"You are welcome…"

Kang nodded rapidly. He cleared his throat while his eyes darted from her to the ground to the sky and back to her again.

She too looked away, mostly at the palace. Then her head snapped to him, her beam a bit too big to be authentic.

"Well! Tomorrow will be a big day," she said.

He nodded again. She started slowly backing the way she'd come.

"You will promise me to rest well?" she asked.

"Yes, of course!" he said without delay, acting like he was one of those figures whose sole purpose was bobbing their oversized heads.

She turned around, but didn't let her eyes off him. She watched him from over her shoulder, eyelids heavy and fluttering slowly.

"Good," she said with a smile that had turned enigmatic and… alluring. "I do desire to watch you again…"

She turned to walk away, leaving him standing with his face, ears, and neck burning up. He gulped before taking a shaky breath. He wondered exactly _which_ side she was out to sabotage.

Because he knew a certain someone who would definitely _not_ be able to sleep after what he'd just experienced…

* * *

The night had been uneasy, but when it was time to awaken Kitana had achieved getting enough sleep to elude dark circles beneath her eyes.

She spoke little during breakfast, but that wasn't unusual. Most days she held a reactive part during mealtimes. It was mainly Mileena who drove the conversation and sometimes Shang Tsung, although Mileena would not let him do it for long. He bored her too much for that. Father's answers were typically laconic: " _Yes, precious_ ", " _No, precious_ ", " _How nice, precious_ ". Jade only spoke when asked something. And today Kitana too kept quiet, fearing that her anxiousness would become evident if she didn't.

She told Kang she could influence Outworld's chosen combatants simply by asking, which she knew she could. The issue was doing it without being questioned why or whether her father approved. The point of Mortal Kombat was, after all, battle to the death. He would be annoyed when the traditions were not upheld, and if or when Outworld lost he would be wrathful and heartbroken. But it was for the best. She knew it. She did it just as much for Father as she did it for…

Well, for Kang.

Her cheeks glowed red at the thought of him. She consumed the last of her fruit and tea, then stood, asking to be excused.

"Of course, pearl," Father said. "Do not be late for the games."

"No, Father," she said as she walked out of the dining room, beginning to jog down the hallway as soon as the doors closed behind her.

The first round consisted of sixteen matches. She had already spoken to Jade and Reptile before attending breakfast. Jade complied immediately. Reptile was perplexed over the request, but nonetheless agreed when she told him it was a simple wish of hers and nothing else.

Technically, she did not lie.

That was two ensured, and fourteen left. She only had three hours before the commencement of the tournament, to which she absolutely must to be on time for, preferably freshened up as well.

The first ones she ran into was an old soldier who would temporarily come out of retirement due to the tournament, and another soldier turned assassin – one of her father's finest. Both were as loyal to her as they were to the Emperor. The third person was a bounty hunter from the north who happily obliged since she "normally charged more for a kill" than she'd done today. The fourth person was a famous brawler from Lei Chen. He too agreed readily, since he thought there was little in sportsmanship in killing. The fifth person was a sorceress who was also easily persuaded. In fact, when Kitana spoke to her, the woman gave the impression of not being very eager to participate at all.

The sixth person, however, threatened to make things difficult.

"You suggest mercy," Sheeva said as she sharpened her battle-axe. "How come?"

Kitana hid her hands behind her back. Her bracelet clinked as she wrung her wrists. To claim that it was just what she wanted so can you pretty please do it was successful when used on old, sentimental men and people who didn't care either way, but a Shokan was different. For them, battle wasn't simply a deep-rooted part of their culture – it _was_ their culture, and something they prided themselves on.

"It would hardly be an impartial fight. Earthrealmers are so small and delicate," Kitana said. "Where is the meaning in slaying something that is scarcely a real warrior? They are harmless!"

"The one who took the title of Champion from my prince is, as I have understood it, positively not harmless," Sheeva said.

Curses! Of course she would bring that up! Kitana was a fool not to anticipate it.

"That one is a rare exception," she said, forcing her tone steady. If she believed what she said, others would too.

Sheeva nodded as she turned back to the grinding wheel.

"I shall bear it in mind," she said. "And inform Kintaro of your opinion, as well."

Kitana let out a soft breath. One less person to convince. Sheeva was better suited to speak with her kinsman anyway.

But the morning was coming to an end. There were a few people Kitana knew would never see eye to eye with her. Baraka was one of them. She bore no misconceptions about him – she was well aware that he would rather throw the fight than spare an enemy. And Tarkata never surrendered.

That only left one more. Kitana hadn't seen him since the day before yesterday, and she was running out of time. She contemplated going to his rejuvenation chamber on the lower level, even though Father forbade her from doing so.

Fortunately, she didn't have to; she met him in the foyer right as he himself emerged from the cellar.

"Ermac!"

He turned to face her after she called out to him, bowing and descending so she could more easily look him in the eye.

"Ermac, I need you to do something for me," she said.

"What is your command, your highness?"

"It might cause you problems, but…"

She hesitated. He watched her, waited, and then inclined his head to her attentively.

"We will do everything we can to adhere to your wishes, your highness."

"I… I want you to spare your opponents in the tournament."

Kitana had known Ermac for as long as she could remember. She could recall the days she met Jade and Goro, and the day Mileena was born. Ermac on the other hand, had always been in her life.

Not once had she seen him taken aback.

His eyes expanded and his jaw dropped, which she could only tell due to the dressings around his lower face becoming stretched. Most remarkably, he lost control of his levitation, tottering backwards as he suddenly landed.

Another day she would have been delighted for having managed to finally surprise him, but now she was too worried about what his answer would be to enjoy it.

"Your highness," he said after regaining his balance. "The Emperor expects fatal outcomes in all matches."

"I know," she said quietly. "I know doing as I ask might make him cross with you. But it is my wish."

He stared at her, then down at his hands, obviously irresolute. She put a kind hand on his shoulder.

"If you do not feel at ease with this, you should not-"

"No!" he said, cringing when he realized he interrupted her. "We will abide by your needs. There will be no trouble."

She looked at him with concern as she brought her hand back. She doubted her actions would not cause dilemmas. But they were necessary. And it was too late to change anything now, either way.

"Good. Thank you," she said. She peered down at the great sundial they were standing on. It was close to midday. "We should prepare ourselves for the first round."

He nodded and continued out to Father's arena, where the fighters were supposed to gather. Kitana rushed to her bedchambers. She ripped of her dress, washed up, pulled on a fancier one, brushed her hair and styled it as simply as she could while still having it look proper. Make-up she didn't bother with – no one would be able to see her face anyhow.

There was a knock on the door.

"Kitana," Jade said. "The Emperor and Mileena are waiting. Are you ready?"

"Yes!" Kitana called back as she put on her headdress, snatching her veil and earrings off the vanity. "Yes, I'm coming!"

She hastened to the door and nearly tripped over the doorsill. Jade expertly caught her arm, pulling her upright.

"A princess is never tardy," was all she said, tying the veil while Kitana put on the earrings.

They ran together to the second entrance where the carriage was going to pick them up and take them to the arena. They got there just as the carriage pulled in.

Mileena looked at them with great disappointment.

"Oh, and here I was certain you'd actually be _late_ for once!"

The ride was quiet. Kitana rested her hands in her lap, clenching them so they wouldn't tremble as much. They were the last to arrive at the arena, which was filled to the brim with people from every realm that had merged with Outworld in the past. They cheered when the family made their arrival and the Emperor seated himself on his throne, his daughters next to him.

Alongside one of the walls the cages with the imprisoned Earthrealmers were suspended high above the ground, swaying with every tiny gust of wind. Some of the humans clung to the bars or to each other with panicked faces.

Shang Tsung took his place on the edge of the stage they were sitting on, arms raised in the air as he soaked in the thundering applauds. After a few moments, he motioned for the spectators to be silent.

"My dear citizens!" He gestured to the chosen fighters from Earthrealm on the other side of the arena. "Honored guests! We are gathered here today to witness the greatest, as well as the last, Mortal Kombat in Earthrealm history!"

Far on the other side, the Thunder God directed a hateful glower at Shang Tsung.

"I know none of you bear to wait any longer! Let us begin the competition!"

The first pair to fight was a male human against a Kytinn, with whom Kitana chose not to speak with earlier that morning. She knew it would have been a waste of time. The Kytinn won by piercing the man with one of her ovipositors and tearing his upper body apart before feasting on his innards.

In the second match Kintaro was pitted against a tall, lean woman. She did fairly well for a while, until Kintaro hurled her into the arena wall and roasted her with his fiery breath. Although, if watching closely, you could see that the woman still breathed when she was carried away. Perhaps death would have been the merciful choice in this instance.

The third match saw victory for Outworld yet again when the Outworlder stabbed his opponent's shoulder and knocked him to the ground. However, he did not kill him, causing Father to mumble bewilderedly.

The next combatant from Earthrealm Kitana recognized as Kang's cousin, the one who "was not supposed to be there". He was quick, and very deft with his hat, strange as it sounded. He jumped and spun a lot. The match ended with him slicing the fingers of his rival and kicking him in the head.

Next up was Jade. Kitana already knew how that match would conclude. Jade did not use her razorang, only her staff to bash into her opponent's head, stomach, and legs, and to hoist herself off the ground to kick him many times. Finally, she caught him in a headlock. Pressing a knife to his throat, she ordered him to yield, which he did.

Father followed Jade with a long, hard stare as she jumped onto the stage and placed herself behind Kitana. Still, he said nothing, and Jade pretended not to notice him.

Following Jade was another of Kang's friends – the woman with the yellow hair. She somersaulted a great deal and kicked even more. She used the pink light that shot out from her wrist to win, directing it at her giant opponent's legs so he fell, and stomped on his head until he lost consciousness.

The next match appeared to be one more victory for Outworld as her father's chosen fighter broke first the human's nose and then her arm, but just as it seemed to be over the Earthrealm woman at the last moment wrestled down her opponent.

The last match before the interval was fought by that man from the Netherrealm that Shang Tsung introduced to Father. It was another sorcerer, which explained how the two men had come across each other. With his colorless skin, black eyes, and blood red tattoos he struck Kitana as being a personification of death itself. His name was Quan Chi, and he was powerful.

She got a sense he toyed with the woman he fought, spending time casting illusions and summoning ugly skulls that tried to gnaw at her flesh. When he was done amusing himself he put some kind of spell on her, tossed her a dagger, and told her to gouge her own eyes out. She did, after which she proceeded to sever her own neck one hack at a time.

During the pause, lunch was served to the most important guests while dancers performed in the arena, providing a lighter entertainment where it didn't matter if the spectators spent more attention on their food than what happened on the ground.

By that time, Kitana's stomach was twisting. She managed to swallow a peach as well as a few berries, and drank water instead of wine. When Father wondered what had come of her appetite, she lied, saying it was due to the excitement over finally winning Earthrealm after so many years.

The intermission was excruciatingly long, but at last the second part began.

"Next match!" Shang Tsung yelled over the audience's clamor. "Johnny Cage! Versus… Ermac!"

Johnny Cage sauntered to the arena's midpoint. Ermac drifted out, stopping to kneel in front of them. Kitana wished the gap between the stage and the fighters' positions to be shorter. As it was now, seeing Ermac's face was a challenge, and guessing what he was thinking was impossible.

" _Fight!_ "

Cage soared forth to kick Ermac in the chest. Just as he was about to hit, Ermac teleported. Cage landed in the sand with Ermac reappearing behind him, ready to strike. Cage blocked. Ermac kicked his leg instead, then head, and lastly punched Cage's stomach so he doubled over, the shades of a thousand souls dancing around his fist. He aimed another blow, but Cage warded it off with a few punches of his own. He kicked Ermac's leg before flipping backwards, kicking his chin in the process, and proceeded to vault to the arena wall. Cage's hand lit up; he threw one of his glowing projectiles.

Ermac avoided it, then flicked his wrist. Cage was thrust into the stone behind him. He flew up and hurled around in the air, spinning in every direction. He wheeled over the audience, almost getting stabbed when a Tarkatan stood up whilst swung his blades. Ermac made a wave; Cage flew back and crashed into one of the decorative stone pillars. The impact caused the pillar to rock precariously. Ermac tore Cage off the pillar – there were cracks left on the surface – and sent him speeding into another, hitting face first. Ermac pulled him away to slam him into another pillar, did it again, two, three, four times. When he tried doing it a seventh time, Cage twisted as he zoomed forth in the air and threw one of his glowing projectiles. It hit Ermac's outstretched arm. He flinched, dropping Cage to the ground.

Cage landed in a limp, sprawling heap. He got to his feet whilst wavering. Ermac raised his hand. Cage threw a projectile. Ermac made it veer to the side, and Cage rushed. He kicked Ermac in the torso, shoulder, chin, then spun to kick his head. Ermac teleported behind Cage, hitting him in the back, and proceeded to drag Cage to him as the human staggered forward. Ermac kicked Cage's gut, punched his jaw, and kicked his shin and chest. He was about to punch his head when Cage blocked. He kicked Ermac in the stomach and made his hand blaze with green as he punched Ermac's head. He fell back, bombarding Ermac with green projectiles. Some hit, but most changed course mid-flight.

Ermac put his hands together, luminous silhouettes converging around them. His souls, his powers, centered around his hands. It shot out like a vivid green beam at Cage… and Cage _dodged._

Kitana was certain the light tricked her, her eyes fooled her, but it was true. At the last moment, Cage vaulted out of the way, only one of his feet getting grazed by beam. He got up unharmed, shaking and stomping the foot that was caught. It probably felt cold and numb.

Ermac plummeted to the ground. Cage threw a projectile. It hit Ermac straight in the stomach; he doubled over. Cage seemed surprised by it, but then he grinned. He understood.

He sped forward, punched Ermac thrice, and kneed him in the stomach and chin. He punched two more times, in the abdomen, finishing with a glowing uppercut.

Ermac fell, actually fell, to the ground. Cage charged his hand again, punching down on Ermac's head. Ermac rolled away and scrambled to his feet. Cage ran after him and kicked, but Ermac sidestepped. Cage punched; Ermac dodged. Cage charged both hands, an even bigger projectile than normal shooting out from them. Ermac swiveled, but the projectile still hit his arm. Cage kicked his leg and punched his ribs. He aimed another blow, and Ermac telekinetically pushed him back.

Ermac dashed forth. He brought down his fists on Cage's head, punched his face, kicked his head, jumped up and stomped on Cage's shoulder. Ascending higher up, Ermac lifted Cage, and slammed him into the sand. Before Cage could get up, Ermac hovered right above him and plunged down, driving one elbow into Cage's back.

Even when impaired by the distance, it was obvious that Cage was done for. He did not move after the last drop. Shang Tsung rose to order Ermac to finish the match. Before he could even take a breath, Ermac gyrated and hastened out of the arena with his head hanging low, refusing to look the Emperor's way. Cage was already dragging himself away, Kang, Kung Lao and the blonde woman – Sonya Blade – running out to help him.

"Shang Tsung," Father said, voice devoid of tone or emotion. "Did _your creation_ just do what I _think_ he did?!"

Shang Tsung slowly turned. Beads of perspiration trickled down his face. He gulped.

"It… It would seem so, my lord," he said.

Mileena giggled. Kitana would have too, but she couldn't make a single sound. She was too busy being suffocated by her own conscience.

* * *

Kang didn't know what to expect when told they would fight in Kahn's arena, but he knew he _wasn't_ expecting a Coliseum.

As tall as a ten-story building with many small entrances, some covered by bars, and space for thousands, _tens of thousands_ , spectators. The Earthrealmers were even given their own little compartment with seats and food. It was made up of many rooms, including one with a balcony over the arena, where they now stood.

Fortunately, the scenery was the biggest surprise for the day, because Kitana had managed to keep her promise.

"A tip-off to everyone," Johnny said as they returned with him to the compartment. "They might not kill you, but they won't go easy you."

"How bad do you think it is?" Sonya asked as she propped him up so he leaned entirely on her.

"Eh, it's not that bad," he said. "A few bruises, a few cuts. I might have bruised my tailbone…" He tried to change positions, and yelped. "Or broken it!"

Sonya sighed, shaking her head. Jax pushed forth one of the chaise lounges whilst Kang ran off to bring the thickest, silkiest pillow he could find. Johnny seated himself, grimacing all the way down.

"I guess we owe Liu's girlfriend a few thanks," Sonya said.

"She's not my girlfriend!"

Sonya was on her way to a smirk and a retort when Shang Tsung finally announced the next match.

"Jackson Briggs! Versus… Baraka!"

Johnny hummed. "I might be the brain damage that's crossing my wires, but… _didn't you two already fight?_ "

"Maybe Shang Tsung's hoping for an easy victory?" Lao said.

Jax stood up whilst cracking his knuckles. It sounded more like he was snapping the bones in his fingers.

"I hope Shang Tsung hasn't bet anything on that."

He walked over to the large duffel bag he'd brought with him. A large, black vest lay on top of it; he pulled it on, fastening it as he strode out to the arena.

Kang frowned. "Why is he bringing a bullet proof vest now?"

"Not bullet proof," Sonya said. She patted a similar vest that lay among her belongings. "Stab proof."

Jax and Baraka got to their positions, staring each other down. Baraka's arm-blades were already drawn; he whetted them against each other. Jax assumed a fighting stance, both feet planted firmly on the ground.

" _Fight!_ "

They charged, rushing at each other. Baraka swung, madly stabbing at Jax's upper body. Jax sidestepped, ducked, and punched Baraka in the face. It must have been a powerful blow, for Baraka's head snapped back and he nearly lost his balance. Jax kicked his knee, punched his chest, and kneed him in the chin.

Baraka grunted. He sliced at Jax's chest, slashed with both blades from Jax's shoulders and down, then swept with one blade past his abdomen. He didn't work as fast as Kang had seen him previously; each time he cut through Jax's vest his movements lost speed. Baraka stepped back, bewilderedly looking between his blades and Jax. The major wasn't noticeably injured; no blood had been spilled. The slices left his vest damaged and frayed, but he himself was all right. Grinning, Jax ran forward, and hit Baraka's head. Baraka dodged the next strike, then landed two punches of his own. He kicked Jax's leg before spinning in place, his arms extended, slashing several times. When he finally withdrew, the vest was even more marred, and his blades wetly gleamed with something red. It wasn't a lot of blood, but it was there.

Jax advanced, punching Baraka again. He kicked the Tarkatan's chest, punched his throat, then struck his jaw in a painful uppercut. He got behind Baraka, kicked his leg, hit him in the back of the head, and kicked him so hard he stumbled forward.

Baraka was close to losing his footing, but at the last moment managed to remain upright. He charged with his blades, focusing on Jax's head and arms. Jax tried to avoid the blades, but still got cut. Baraka punched him in the face, arm-blade grazing his cheek. The Tarkatan struck his stomach, kicked his leg, kicked his knee, and lastly slashed his chest twice, ruining the body armor and drawing a little more blood.

Jax dodged the next blow, got close and elbowed Baraka in the face. He jumped back, kicked him in the face, punched again, uppercut, then jumped up and slammed his elbow into Baraka's head from above.

Jax aimed for the Tarkatan's head, but Baraka moved away, twisted and cut Jax's torso, sweeping with his blades twice. He cut with the blades down the side of Jax's head, punched his shoulder, chest, and abdomen. He tried to stab Jax's stomach as well, but got caught in the fabric. He punched Jax in the face with his free arm, and kicked the major in the chest whilst pulling his other arm to get loose. They staggered away from each other. Baraka quickly attacked again, kicking Jax in the chin.

Jax punched Baraka's chest, kicked his knee, then uppercut. He grabbed the Tarkatan by the throat and shoved him to the ground, punching his face. Baraka tried slicing Jax's arms, but Jax dragged him up, held him above his head and brought him down over his knee. Baraka gasped, emitting something that almost sounded like a whimper. Jax lifted the Tarkatan up into the air again, bent forward and brought him down again, this time on his back.

Baraka sagged off Jax's back to the ground, wheezing and groaning.

Jax laughed as he raised his arms in victory. Among the spectators, every Tarkatan roared with displeasure; the remainder of the audience was split pretty evenly between either booing or applauding.

Jax ignored them all, instead turning to the cages with the hostages that hung probably fifty meters above the ground. He put one hand on his heart and threw an air-kiss with the other. Vera stuck one arm between the bars, the one not wrapped around Jin's shoulders, to wave at him.

He returned to the compartment in a much better mood than when he left. The vest, on the other hand, was unrecognizable. It was torn, shredded to pieces in fact, but had at least done its job as became evident when Jax removed it – he'd sustained minimal injuries compared to last time.

"Let's hope you won't be in need of this again," Sonya said as Jax chucked it to the side.

Jax chuckled.

"Unlikely," he said. "Shang Tsung will know better by the next round."

Right at that moment, on the Emperor's stage, the sorcerer announced the next match with obvious chagrin in his tone.

"Nightwolf, versus Reptile!"

"It's that guy again!" Johnny said as Reptile jumped down to the arena. "Hey, Wolfie! I know he looks pretty bizarre, but he's fast. And his spit burns like hell!"

"Duly noted," Nightwolf said before making his way out onto the sand arena.

He positioned himself on his end of the field, looking ready to act while still relaxed and calm. It was a stark contrast to Reptile, who was noticeably agitated, constantly glancing at his Emperor and the Princesses.

" _Fight!_ "

Nightwolf raised his arms. The bow of light took shape in his hands. He rapidly pulled the string back; more than a dozen arrows came at Reptile in just a few seconds. The Saurian jumped out of the way while unhinging his jaw. He spat the acidic saliva at the arrows which dissolved in midair. He dashed, sliding on slime similar to the spittle, and ran into Nightwolf. He punched Nightwolf, kicked his head, swept with his claws across his face, and jump kicked him in the chest using both his feet.

Nightwolf stumbled back, but then rushed forth. He slammed his shoulder into Reptile just as the Saurian stood up. Nightwolf punched him between the eyes, kicked him in the gut twice, swiveled and chopped a hand to Reptile's neck. His hands lit up – the tomahawks appeared; he slashed them into Reptile's chest. Reptile made a pained snarl. He kicked Nightwolf in the face, hit his shoulder and stomach, then struck Nightwolf's chest with a hand dripping with acid. It ate a hole through Nightwolf's shirt, making his skin bubble and boil.

Nightwolf screamed as he pressed his hand to the blistered patch. He lunged at Reptile, chopped at his face, and summoned his axes to hack at Reptile's shoulders.

But then Reptile vanished.

One second he was in front of Nightwolf, the next he was gone. Nightwolf rotated on the spot, his muscles tense, with one hand still held against his wound.

Sonya's head darted around, eyes searching very corner of the arena.

"Where…?"

Johnny snapped his fingers.

"Shit! I forgot he could turn invisible! Why doesn't he do that all the time?"

Raiden stepped closer to the arena, hands clasped behind his back.

"Among most of Outworld's species it is judged a cowardly move, a sign of weakness. It would be nobler to retreat altogether."

"He's holding himself back due to Outworld machismo?" Sonya asked with a scoff, after which she shrugged. "Well, if he insists."

Kang looked at the arena whilst chewing at his lip. He couldn't decide whether this was a good sign or not. On one hand, Reptile was feeling vulnerable enough to resort to this ridiculed trick, which meant Nightwolf might have a big chance of winning. On the other hand, Reptile possessed the power of invisibility, and he'd just decided to use it.

Nightwolf staggered back, doubling over as if someone punched him. His pants tore as if scratched with claws, his cheek was scraped the same way, and he was kicked in the chest. He gyrated and struck; Reptile became visible again when Nightwolf hit his neck. Nightwolf kneed him in the abdomen, uppercut, then conjured an axe that he swung in an arc from below, cutting Reptile's torso. He grabbed the Saurian by the neck, hoisting him off the ground. He quickly released, thumping his shoulder into Reptile as he fell.

Reptile scuttled away to the arena wall closest to them, starting to clamber upwards. Nightwolf summoned his bow and opened fire, but Reptile was fast – the arrowheads merely struck the wall before evaporating. After climbing high enough, Reptile leapt to one of the columns. He began discharging acid spit and throwing clots of slime from his hands, using the column as a shield from Nightwolf's arrows. He created one large blob of slime using both hands and threw it. Right before it hit, Nightwolf's body lit up; the blob rushed back towards Reptile. The Saurian dodged by jumping to the ground at the last second. The blob struck the column instead, causing it to sway and slowly descent, but stop before it hit the ground.

The instant he landed, Reptile turned invisible again. Nightwolf assumed a protective stance, but was still slashed over the face by Reptile's claws. He punched into thin air, appeared to be hit over the head and kicked in the gut. Nightwolf summoned a glowing knife and swung; Reptile reappeared as it cut his arm. Reptile spat out a string of acid before he lunged, grabbed Nightwolf's face and kicked his chest. He climbed onto Nightwolf's back and heaved himself backwards, pulling Nightwolf with him and making him fall to the ground. Nightwolf tried to get up again when Reptile kicked his head; he collapsed in the sand.

The audience cheered, and, like previously, Reptile fled from the arena before Shang Tsung got the chance to order him to deliver the killing blow.

Nightwolf still hadn't moved; Raiden swiftly teleported out on the arena and brought him back before any of the others had taken a single step. Nightwolf was seething as they returned. He forced himself to his feet.

"I will be in the back," he said, walking unsteadily to the room at the rear of their compartment. No one argued with or tried to stop him.

But as the others turned their attention to the next match, Kang looked back. Nightwolf was wobbling and needed to support himself against the wall in order to move. Without anyone else noticing, Kang ran up to the older man, catching him just as he was about to fall.

He slung Nightwolf's arm over his shoulder to steady him, which wasn't easy due to the height difference. Nightwolf glared down at him, but then he sighed and allowed Kang to help him into the next room.

"I'm sorry," Kang said as he helped seat Nightwolf on a sofa-like piece of furniture, although he wasn't sure exactly why he apologized.

Nightwolf shook his head.

"Get me some water," he rasped.

Kang ran out and brought back a jug. Nightwolf chugged down about a third of it, took a few handfuls to splash his wounds, and used the remainder to douse his head. The water splattered everywhere, on Nightwolf's pants, on the sofa, and on the floor. Completely unconcerned, Nightwolf put the jug down as he wiped his chin.

"How long have you known Raiden?" he asked.

Kang almost flinched at the abrupt question, eyes wide.

"Umm…"

"I have known him for twenty years. Exactly."

"I think, about the same…"

"He came to me, twenty years ago, to recruit me. To have me fight. I didn't believe him, of course. I thought he was crazy. Yet here I am." Nightwolf bent forward, resting his head in his hands. "I knew how to fight, but I wasn't talented or exceptional. He chose me because of my grandmother."

"Your grandmother?"

Nightwolf made a jerky motion that was probably supposed to be a nod.

"She fought in the last tournament. She got far, and she survived. He expected me to follow in her footsteps."

He lifted his head, but he didn't look at Kang. He looked out the door, into the room where Raiden was still watching the tournament.

"For twenty years I've trained… prepared myself…" he whispered. "And this is the result. Half of my life…" His face contorted into pure rage. He clenched his fist and slammed it into the wall, suddenly shouting. " _Wasted!_ "

Kang recoiled. He glimpsed at the door opening, expecting someone to come in and wonder over the commotion. When no one came, he turned back to Nightwolf, who once more buried his head in his hands whilst sucking in his breaths.

Kang shuffled his feet whilst rubbing his neck. He didn't know what to say, but couldn't simply leave either. He wetted his lips.

"At least you're still alive?" he said.

Nightwolf flinched. He looked up at Kang with a confused frown.

"Huh?"

Kang had seen many European advertisements, among them commercials from charities – the ones that essentially guilt-tripped you into giving money. Kang was willing to forgive them because, while devious, they still worked for a good cause. However, some of them did it better than others. He remembered one ad in particular that depicted a family who lost their house in a fire. They were standing outside the ruins, in shock, when a man representing the charity popped onto the screen, telling them they should be thankful since there were starving children in Nigeria who would be _ecstatic_ if they had a house to burn down.

Kang felt a little like the man in that commercial right now.

'Nightwolf, how _dare_ you be upset! I bet the man from before who was speared and eaten by that green bug-lady would _love_ to be a living failure!'

"I mean, uh… now you have the rest of your life to not-waste?"

Wow, he was bad at this.

"You know, it's like-"

"No, I understand what you're saying." Nightwolf interrupted him with a sigh. Kang shrunk back a little more.

"I'm sorry," he said again.

Nightwolf massaged the bridge of his nose, then turned back to Kang with a smile. It was false – like something you'd expect from a person who has heard the concept of happiness and smiling, but never seen or experienced it.

"Don't be," he said. "Thank you." He gestured to the main chamber. "You should go back to the others. You need to be prepared for your turn."

Kang assumed it was the politest way of telling someone to get lost. With a quiet " _Okay_ " he complied and left, returning to the balcony just in time to see a female Shokan head-butt a man unconscious before marching off the arena without killing him.

Nightwolf was right about one thing: he did have to prepare, especially since he risked fighting another of those. Even a Shokan who _wasn't_ trying to kill you was a danger to your life.

* * *

This was just fantastic – trading one dreary location for another.

The ground was barren and rocky with minimal vegetation. The air was chilly and dry. The sky was overcast with not a single ray of light leaking through the thick black clouds. Far to the north was a city that begun with a few solitary buildings in the sand before growing into a metropolis, with big walls and houses that flaunted golden roofs and vibrant foliage. Furthest away was the palace, surpassing everything before it.

Shang Tsung was in that city.

Right now, they were standing on a rock mound several kilometers away from it. The white-haired man had only been able to take them this close without being detected. He apologized for it, and then apologized again for having to leave immediately. Not only did his powers weaken in Outworld, but he was needed in Earthrealm "for its protection", he said before a whirlwind transferred him elsewhere.

Smoke wasn't sure he believed all of that yet. But, hey – he'd taken them where they wanted to be, as well as given them something to open a portal back to Earth once they required it.

Kuai Liang knelt by the edge of the mound, analyzing the area between them and the city, searching for the best roads to take. Smoke knelt next to him.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked.

Kuai's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't move otherwise or tear his gaze from the city. With the mask on even Smoke needed to make an effort to tell what was on his mind.

"It's bound to draw unwanted attention."

"I know," Kuai said as he stood up. "But I want to do it. It's the only means I have to honor him."

Smoke also got to his feet and made an exaggerated bow.

"Very well then, Sub-Zero."

Ugh, it sounded wrong. It fit perfectly for Bi-Han and Qi Leng, from what little he remembered of the old man. Kuai Liang was nothing like them. But, if it made him happy it didn't matter what Smoke thought.

Kuai relaxed again. He turned back to the city.

"We should separate, to cover as much terrain as possible. Shang Tsung ought to be around the palace area." He pointed to the outer wall. "We'll converge east of the outmost gate by dawn tomorrow."

"And – what if – one of us doesn't show tomorrow?" Smoke asked.

Kuai said nothing whilst reflecting over the possibility. Wireless communicators were available at the Lin Kuei headquarters, but they didn't take any with them since they were bugged. They'd never been told they were bugged nor had any tangible proof of it, but they were bugged. Kuai looked at Smoke.

"We'll each decide what to do when or if that happens," he said.

Smoke stifled a snort. They both knew what they'd do if they thought they'd lost the other.

They accompanied each other to the outskirts of the city before splitting up, Kuai going west and Smoke going east. The place was desolate at first, but soon people arrived from the inner section of the city and he was forced to keep to the shadows. The first hour went slowly since much of the area was open with the houses sparsely located. He wished he could have simply teleported into the crowded part where it was easy to hide, but that would be a waste of energy. About halfway through, taking up a huge chunk of the city, was a dense forest that stood out against the rest of the region, which looked more like a desert. The ground was moist and covered in large, thick-leaved plants; the tree trunks were bulky with vines hanging from their crowns. Also, faces. The trees had faces: eyes that glowed yellow and huge gaps for mouths that sometimes grumbled or groaned.

No wonder it was vacant.

He took to the treetops, jumping from branch to branch to pass through faster. Some of the limbs he touched down on budged sluggishly, the vines stirring and moving towards him, but always so slowly they posed no risk of actually ensnaring him.

Someone came his way.

A woman, dark-skinned with long black hair and a half mask in green textile. She walked on a wide, partially overgrown path less than a few meters away from his position. He halted, huddling behind a broad stem and a cluster of leaves. Just a couple of seconds until she would have passed by and he could continue.

She went past a bush, disappearing from his line of sight. After a few instants, he made himself ready to move again, when something whooshed past his head.

He whirled around and came face to face with the masked woman.

He leapt off the branch, she followed, and they landed in a small clearing. The object from before returned to her hand – it was a boomerang, edges razor-sharp.

"The Lin Kuei is not welcome in Outworld."

He could have pointed out he wasn't actually Lin Kuei anymore, but he doubted she would have cared.

"Oh! Well, pardon my confusion," he said. "You see, it seemed like Outworld wanted to be friends, last time you came to us."

"An understandable mistake," she said, unfastening a steel club from her belt. "You are forgiven."

She lunged and swung the club from below; it extended into a staff and hit his chin. He took a staggering step backwards. She planted the staff in the ground, hoisted herself up and vaulted back, kicking his face. Rushing forth, she punched his head and stomach, then swiveled around and slammed the staff into his back, making him fall headfirst.

_Damn. She's fast._

Making his body dissolve into a cloud of smoke, he dashed, becoming corporeal right in front of her. He chopped his palm against her head twice, then struck her chest. He hit her head, chopped at her neck, and kicked her head. She blocked the next punch, dodging when he tried to kick her torso. She brought up her staff to hit him in the face. She thrust it into his stomach, swung it at his head, then jumped up and smashed it onto his shoulder.

He caught the staff in his hand while he kicked her leg; she snatched it back before aiming another blow. He reversed, allowed smoke to envelop him, and made himself invisible. It took a lot of energy to do and primarily to _stay_ that way, but it'd be worth it if he could get away. He was wasting time like this.

The woman made her staff shrink down again as she slowly looked around the small glade. She let out a throaty chuckle.

"That will not work…"

She spun around, throwing a long dagger. It burrowed into the bark of a tree, less than five centimeters away from his face. The tree grunted.

Well. In that case, what was the point?

He became visible again. She lobbed her boomerang at him. He dispersed into a smoke cloud; it hit the three instead, which roared. He surged at her, she extended her staff, putting up her arms to block. He still punched her head, struck his palm against her chest, before grabbing and shoving her down. Before she fell, she plunged the staff into the soil, keeping herself upright. She put her feet to a tree and used it to kick off, propelling herself back at him. With the staff still supporting her, she lifted herself off the earth and kicked his torso. She touched down, drove the staff into his face and kicked him in the stomach. He moved away from the next blow, instead kicking her leg, then chopped his palm to her head. She blocked a punch to the jaw, so he struck her neck instead, then spun to kick her abdomen and head. He snatched one of the shells from his belt and flung it at her. It exploded into a black cloud and she was transported up into the air. He took hold of her leg as she fell, hurling her into the dirt.

She twisted around, threw two daggers at him and used her staff to push herself up. He shirked the daggers but not the staff as she swung it at his head. She kicked his torso, hit him in the stomach with the staff, grabbed his shoulders and thrust her knee into his gut. She knocked her contracted staff into his temple, finishing by kicking him in the face.

His legs caved in; he sagged to the ground with a groan. His head throbbed. Lights and shapes danced before his eyes.

This was embarrassing. Twelve hours ago he'd successfully fought off a castle filled with Lin Kuei assassins, but now couldn't beat _one_ Outworld woman?

Pathetic.

Somewhere in the distance he heard one of the trees cry out. He was rolled over to his back. The woman stood above him, the boomerang in her hand. She raised it, and yelped as something yanked her back, away from him.

He pushed himself up with his elbows, blinkingly trying to make out what happened to her. His vision cleared; he saw her pressed against one of the trees, vines binding her body to its trunk. Cursing and spitting, she struggled to come loose, but it only made the vines tighten up around her frame even more.

Saved by nature. Unbelievable.

He got to his feet laughing, needing to make a great effort not to falter as he walked up to her. She was straining to grasp one of the knives in her belt, not quite able to reach it, and worked even harder as he closed in. He stepped onto one of the tree-roots to level his gaze with her. She writhed. He cupped her chin with his hand, turned her head so she'd look at him, and…

Wow.

Those were some very green eyes. The kind that inspired poems. Especially now, when they blazed with rage and her face was flushed from exertion. A few damp strands of hair had fled from her ponytail and fallen into her face. He brushed them aside, causing her to growl.

He reminded himself he actually had something important to do. He'd wasted enough time already; the vines were beginning to twine around his ankles as well.

"Well, this has been a lot of fun," he said, which made her glare even harder. "But I have a few things to take care of, so…" He looked down at the plants tied around her body, then glanced up at her with a grin. "Good luck with this."

And with that, he dissolved into a cloud of smoke and let the wind carry him out of the forest, in the direction of the palace.


	8. Lusting For None But One Thing

** Chapter 8 – Lusting For None But One Thing, or **

** Seeping Through The Teeth **

 

Kitana was at a loss as she rummaged through her wardrobe. There were over seventy garments in there; she gained new ones – and threw out old – every day. She usually liked what the seamstresses gave her, but now she cared for none of it.

She wished Jade were here to help her choose; she always had an eye for these things. But that wasn’t possible – two hours ago, she had returned dirty, with leaves in her hair, and in a very foul mood. Wasting no time, she seized two guards by their lapels and told them they would assist her in the training room. Hopefully, she would not be too rough with them.

Kitana pulled out a pale dress with a high collar and draping skirt and held in front of her whilst looking in the full-length mirror. She examined her image for half a minute, then threw the dress away with a sigh.

“What are you sighing about?”

Mileena, who was stringing a necklace on Kitana’s bed, briefly looked up from her work. Kitana delved back into her closet. Perhaps she should try something a bit darker, or one of her whites?

“I don’t know what to wear for tomorrow,” she said as she flung one of her more casual robes over the closet door to keep it out of the way.

“What does it matter? No one important will care.”

“It’s a big event in Outworld history!”

“So? We attend big events all the time; you have never been concerned about it before. Wear whatever you want.”

Mileena shrugged whilst she scrutinized a gemstone before casting it aside and reaching for another one. Then her eyes widened. She dropped the entire necklace, gems scattering all over the bed. She turned to Kitana with a beam.

“Wait! I know! It’s because your _man_ is here!”

Kitana swiveled around, cheeks burning.

“He’s not my man!”

“Oh no? Well; guess what I heard after breakfast this morning.” Mileena rolled over onto her back with a roguish grin. “I ran into three maids gossiping about how one of them saw the princess speaking to an _Earthrealmer_ in the garden!”

“Wh-what?”

Kitana’s heart skipped a beat or two. She thought she had been careful, but… Argh! So stupid to think no one would see them! But still, shouldn’t the servants have better things to do during their workings hours than stare out the windows?

Mileena waved her hand dismissively.

“Relax! I interrupted and told them it was preposterous and that I didn’t want to hear such shameful lies about my sister.” She emitted a wicked sounding giggle. “One of them was close to tears!”

Kitana sighed again, in relief this time. Turning back to her wardrobe she pulled out a flimsy, strapless dress, almost immediately hanging it back in.

“You are so cruel…” she mumbled.

Mileena tsked at her.

“So…” she said with a suggestive intonation. “What were you talking about… alone… in the garden?”

Kitana glanced back. Mileena had rolled over onto her stomach again, her ankles crossing and uncrossing and her chin resting on her laced together fingers, with an eager expression. Kitana pursed her lips and turned back to her clothes.

“Nothing,” she said.

“Ooh, you can tell me!”

“Private matters.”

Mileena hummed exaggeratedly.

“Private… Something that made him ‘redden like a sunset’?”

A chill went down Kitana’s spine. Just how much did those maids _see_?

“I-I said that I… desired to… watch him again.”

Mileena gasped, then laughed.

“No wonder you’re worried! Now he might expect something! But it won’t be clothes! Don’t you know men only appreciate a dress when it lies by your feet?”

“Mileena!”

“What?” her little sister said defensively. “It’s true! Jade said so! And it’s all right; you are allowed to appreciate him too.”

Kitana’s face flushed. It would be a lie to claim that her eyes or her mind hadn’t already wandered, or that her heart didn’t speed up and the area between her legs didn’t tingle when it happened.

Kang was simply unlike any other man she had ever met.

Outworld males – as well as many females, but mostly males – were big. Strapping, tall, and very well-built. Kang was closer to her height, slim while still being strong.

In Outworld, when men spoke they sounded gruff, and when they touched you their hands were coarse. Kang’s voice was soft and mild, and when he accidently held her arm, it had been gentle.

Also, whenever other people spoke to her there were something calculated about it. The nobles, the politicians, the military officers trying to improve their statuses – all of them with fabricated faces and pre-determined speeches. That was something she did _not_ look forward to when she inherited the crown: people palpably adulating her and assuming she wouldn’t notice.

Kang wasn’t like that at all. He often didn’t know what to say until he was halfway through saying it. He slipped and made blunders. He was honest without being spiteful. He was _genuine_. All of him, even his appearance. His hair always slightly disheveled; his face clean of paint and cosmetics. He had two tiny moles on his slender neck, right where it met his shoulders. From the first moment she noticed, she wanted to touch them.

Mileena chuckled.

“You know, this is good,” she said. “You have given him another reason to live, if he even had one to begin with. I’m sure your little entanglement achieved many things.”

Kitana inhaled deeply, wrapping her arms around her stomach.

“It has,” she said. “It’s made me incredibly nervous. I don’t know what to do next time I see him, privately.”

“You can imagine all the ways you desire to… _watch_ him.”

Kitana’s face grew hot once more. A single eye between the sisters was enough to send them both into a fit of hysterical giggling.

“But it will do no good if I don’t have the courage to face him,” Kitana said as she fanned herself with her hand. “And I still have no idea what to wear!”

“It is a little late to call for the seamstress, isn’t it?”

“Or for a facial treatment.” Kitana took a minute to look into the mirror by the vanity. “My pores are enormous! Do you think he’ll mind if I never remove my veil? Perhaps I should wear something with a short skirt, to keep his eyes off my face,” she joked as she turned back to the worthless wardrobe.

“What does it matter?” Mileena snapped.

Kitana whirled around to stare at her. She couldn’t recall the last time she heard her sister sound so cross. Mileena had taken up her necklace again, fumbling with her gems with a hard-set scowl.

“You could be clad in a sack that dripped mud and smelled of rancid sea creatures and everyone would love it,” she said, feverishly trying to string a red gem onto the necklace. When it didn’t comply, she swept every gemstone off the bed and threw the necklace to the floor, then buried her face in the beddings.

“It makes no difference what you say or do when you have a pretty face,” she said, her voice muffled.

Kitana wanted to smother herself with her stupid dresses. How could she be so pre-occupied, and with a man of all things, that she didn’t realize how insensitive she was being?

“That’s not true,” she said as she slowly sat down on the bed. She laid a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “You are pretty, and you can be obnoxiously annoying sometimes.”

Mileena gasped and twisted around, absolutely affronted. “I am not!”

“Oh, yes you are.” Kitana sighed theatrically whilst putting her other hand to her forehead. “You get on my nerves so badly I wish for you to disappear and never return.”

Mileena scrambled up, sitting on her knees and tugging at Kitana’s arm.

“I am perfect and you adore me!”

After waiting a few heartbeats, Mileena yanking at her limb the whole time, Kitana turned to her with a smile. She patted her little sister’s cheek.

“Yes, I do.”

Mileena sunk down next to her, resting her head against Kitana’s frame with her arms encircling her waist. Kitana responded by stroking her hair and kissing her forehead.

Mileena exhaled noisily.

“Your silk dress,” she said.

“What?”

Mileena shifted positions to glimpse up at Kitana. “The newest one. With the pleated collar and loose-fitting skirt.”

Oh! How could she have forgotten that one?

Kitana jumped up from the bed and darted to her closet. Pulling out the dress, she held it in front of her by the mirror. It was perfect!

Mileena followed by bouncing after her. She combed her fingers through Kitana’s hair.

“And you must put your hair up so he can see you face properly! _All_ of it!”

She dragged Kitana over to the vanity, then began searching through Kitana’s collection of hairbands and buckles as she pulled Kitana’s locks into numerous different styles to find the ideal one. All whilst chatting incessantly, of course.

Kitana had never before wanted an evening to last like she did this one.

* * *

Before the dawn of the second and final day of the last Mortal Kombat in Earthrealm history, Shao Kahn gathered nearly all of his chosen combatants in the throne room. The sun was likely to rise moments from now; the kitchen staff were the only other personnel awake.

Jade stood perfectly straight with her head held high. She knew what would come; they all did.

Shao Kahn sat on his throne, slowly tapping his fingers against the armrest in a rhythmic thumping sound. On his left stood Shang Tsung, grinning maliciously, and that Netherrealm sorcerer. On his right stood Baraka, constantly sending her perplexed stares, asking why in the world they had done what they had done.

The tapping stopped. The Kahn had clenched his fist.

“I am pleased with your performance,” he said. “Of yesterday’s sixteen matches, Outworld won ten. However, I did not expect, of those ten matches, merely _three_ to have a lethal outcome.”

He rose, and began marching before them.

“Ten Earthrealmers defeated, but only three dead. Why is this? Sheeva!” He stopped in front of the Shokan. She was a whole head taller than the Emperor, supposedly. “Why did you spare your opponent?”

Sheeva stared ahead, over him and out the window. Slowly, she inclined her gaze.

“There is no honor in slaying something that is scarcely a warrior,” she said.

The corner of the Emperor’s mouth twitched. He turned his back to her and continued walking.

“And Jade, what is your reason for this _sudden_ act of mercy?”

Oh, she had a reason. A reason he would not like and therefore would not hear.

Not that he would enjoy her other explanation much, either.

“They could be useful.”

The Kahn took a step closer.

“Useful,” he iterated.

“Earthrealm is sizable and populous. It will take much manpower to manage. The humans in the tournament are the strongest of their species, but not so strong they can not be subdued. Also, they will be more apt to operate Shang Tsung’s new weapons.” She nodded to the sorcerer. “They will serve the Emperor well, after proper disciplining.”

The Kahn stared at her with narrowed eyes.

“Impressive,” he said. “Great foresight from someone so young.” He looked to her right. “Ermac! What do you have to say?”

Ermac hovered silently, moving slightly up and down but with his posture immobile. He met the Emperor’s scrutiny.

“We agree with Jade.”

“So you do!” Shao Kahn began marching again. “Perhaps all of you have reasoned the same way, possessing the same foresight! I am grateful for your prudence, but also…” He halted in front of Reptile. “Disappointed.”

Reptile winced and shrunk in place. Shao Kahn put a hand on his head.

“Reptile,” he said. “You too agree with Jade?”

Reptile nodded stiffly.

“I see.”

Shao Kahn slid his hand down Reptile’s head to his neck. He leaned down to Reptile’s level to whisper into his ear.

“You will not lie to me, Reptile,” he said, digging his fingers into the Saurian’s flesh. “You know how much I dislike being deceived.”

Reptile trembled, his eyes nearly bulging out of his skull. Jade looked at him, tried to catch his attention whilst faintly shaking her head.

_Don’t. You are still valuable. He will not kill you._

“Th-the princess!” Reptile squawked out, then immediately clamped his mouth shut.

_…but I just might._

“Princess?!”

The Kahn instantly straightened up as he barked out the word. Reptile flinched, but the Emperor wasn’t looking at him anymore. His face hardened; his gaze turned black. He growled through gritted teeth.

“ _Kitana._ ”

* * *

Kang hated to admit it, but he kind of liked Shao Kahn’s palace.

You expected the home of an evil overlord to be dark, somber, and filled with pointy things. And, yes, Shao Kahn’s palace did have all those things. Many chambers were painted in muted colors, there were dark woods coupled with heavy curtains everywhere, and weapon displays seemed to be the only artworks the Emperor enjoyed. But then there were the chambers with large windows that let in so much light, the staircases in shining white marble, and the garden with its hues. Everywhere you went the air would be fresh, and all the rooms were spacious.

And the training room!

There were actually several of them, but the main one was the most notable. It was the largest, with lots of targets, dummies, punching bags, many different kinds of weapons, as well as a stadium for spectators to watch. He passed it the evening before with the intent of having a closer look, but found it occupied by Kitana’s bodyguard and two men. She pummeled them both, then proceeded to berate them for either not trying hard enough or for going easy on her.

If Kang were to face her in a match, he might become worried. The Outworlder he would face today had been one of the few to kill her opponent the previous day, but it didn’t bother him much. Watching her fight once made it obvious to him that her style purely consisted of whaling until the challenger couldn’t take any more. Force without finesse. Those were easy to defeat, if you knew how. People like Jade, on the other hand, took more to overpower.

But it was unnecessary to fret about things before they became certain; the only thing he should be concerned about now was whether the training room was unoccupied or not. It was unlikely since it was a few minutes before dawn, but you never knew.

He was one corner and a couple of steps away from the training room, when he heard something from a nearby chamber, its door ajar. Voices, two of them. One had a snarling-grunting sound to it – Kang assumed it was a Tarkatan – whereas the other spoke with a low, intimidating tone.

When he passed the chamber, he saw a lone Tarkatan and a masked man in a gray uniform. The Tarkatan pressed one of its blades against the man’s neck while holding onto his collar with its other hand. The man broke free, warded off the blade, and jammed two fingers into the Tarkatan’s eyes. As the Tarkatan roared with pain, steam came out of its eyes and its skin _melted._ The man let go, but the Tarkatan continued to liquefy, blood pouring out of its wounds, and steam kept seeping from its body. Finally, it fell down, bloodied and burnt from the inside.

The man spat out something in a foreign language – it sounded European, but Kang couldn’t place it – and then looked straight at Kang, who started.

The man’s eyes were golden, leaning on yellow, and discernably annoyed. He walked towards Kang.

“You’re a Lin Kuei!” Kang blurted out, in Mandarin even though he didn’t know if this Lin Kuei spoke it like the others had done. Judging by what little could be seen of his face, he was Caucasian.

The Lin Kuei halted.

“What’s it to you?” he asked.

What was it to him? Nothing, really. It was just the first thing that came to mind. Kang hesitated for as long as he thought the assassin would allow, trying to come up with what to say next.

“I didn’t, didn’t think Shang Tsung would use more Lin Kuei after what happened last time.”

“Shang Tsung!” The Lin Kuei’s eyes lit up. “Do you know where he is?”

“Umm, somewhere near? It-it’s a big palace…”

The Lin Kuei snorted.

“Yeah… So what do you know about ‘last time’?”

Kang frowned. “Uh, Shang Tsung hired three Lin Kuei to participate in the tournament. One of them died-”

“What about him?” the assassin interrupted, taking a step closer. “How did he die?”

“He… He burned to death,” Kang said, being deliberately sketchy. Adding the strangulation felt unwarranted. Strange enough though, the Lin Kuei didn’t seem fazed by the answer.

“Who did it?”

“A wraith named Scorpion.”

“Scorpion.” The Lin Kuei pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering, “Killed by a dead man. Great. That makes things so much easier…” He turned his attention back to Kang. “Where is Scorpion now?”

“I… am not sure, but he has an associate here: Quan Chi. He should know.”

The Lin Kuei sighed.

“And where do I find Quan Chi?”

“In the arena, the Coliseum, after the matches have started. Shang Tsung will be there too.”

The Lin Kuei studied him, a hint of skepticism in his gaze.

“You are certain about all of this?” he asked.

Kang nodded quickly. “Uh huh!”

The Lin Kuei continued to stare for another few seconds; then he chuckled and patted Kang’s shoulder. He had to compel himself not to recoil at the sudden contact.

“Wonderful! Thanks, kiddo. You’ve just made my day.”

He disappeared, teleported most likely, in a large cloud of smoke. Kang coughed as he waved off the haze with his hand.

“You’re welcome, I guess.”

* * *

The second round commenced with Lao fighting a man remarkably spindly for an Outworlder. He looked fragile, but was fast and proved to be quite a challenge. However, in the end Lao finished it with a perfectly timed wind teleport, appearing behind his opponent and surprising him with a punch and a kick, before finally wrestling him to the ground.

“You can teleport?” Johnny asked Lao as he returned.

“Of course,” he said. “But only a few meters. Teleportation is one of the simplest tricks you can do, even for someone without aptitude for magic. Right?”

He gave Kang a meaningful look and smirk. Kang grimaced at him.

“I’m working on it, okay?”

Johnny scratched his head.

“You can’t do it?”

Kang sighed. “No, not yet.”

“You can cover your fists in flames and throw spheres of fire… but not teleport?” Sonya asked with a cocked brow.

“Look, I don’t know why, but it doesn’t work for me!”

“ _My_ theory is that he’s thinking too much about the mechanics of it,” Lao said. “You have to just do it.”

Kang crossed is arms and stared at the ground, trying to explain why it was so difficult but only ending up mumbling incoherently. Jax slapped his back with a chuckle.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “You’ve been doing pretty well without it, so far.”

“Plus, we’ve got several hours to practice during the intermission,” Lao said.

Kang nodded, trying to look enthusiastic about it. He really wasn’t fond of that technique, and he didn’t believe a few measly hours would be enough for him to get it right.

Lao ruffled his hair.

“But only if you want to,” he said.

“No,” Raiden said. “You should do it. I have a feeling it will be useful.”

“Yes, Lord Raiden,” Kang said, his shoulders slumping dejectedly.

“Are you certain?” Lao asked with a frown. “It’s more difficult to learn a technique when you have an aversion to it, and this is already a stressful-”

Raiden’s head snapped towards them, his eyes like slits and his lips pressed together tightly. It looked like a shadow had cast over his face. Something glinted in his gaze, a small promise of lightning.

“Do you _doubt_ my judgement, _Kung Lao?_ ”

Lao cut himself off, quieting with his mouth still hanging open and a hint of fright on his face.

“No!” he said. “Of course not! Lord Raiden, I would never…” He cleared his throat. “We’ll practice.”

The Thunder God continued to stare suspiciously at them for several seconds. Then he beamed.

“Good!”

Right at that moment Shang Tsung’s voice rang out from the stage on the other side.

“Next match! Sonya Blade! Versus… Jade!”

Johnny rubbed his hands together.

“Oooh, Tigress fight!”

“Shut up, Cage,” Sonya said.

She jumped from the balcony to the arena, but not before donning her stab proof vest. Jade was silently waiting when Sonya reached her spot in the arena. Her staff was already extended in her hand. Sonya activated her wrist-laser and adjusted its intensity. Not once did they tear their fierce gazes off each other.

Looking at them, Johnny’s comparison wasn’t actually that wrong. Jade in particular looked like an imposing, graceful tiger. Sonya was more like a lioness. Or maybe a wasp.

“ _Fight!_ ”

Sonya aimed her lasers; Jade sidestepped – the red light bore into the wall behind her – and threw her boomerang. Sonya moved out of the way; it zoomed past her head, cutting off the tip of her ponytail. Jade rushed, closing the distance between them in seconds, and kicked Sonya in the chest. She punched her nose and jaw, thrust the staff into her chest, kicked her stomach, and struck the staff against her legs. Sonya stumbled, then fell completely when Jade smacked the staff into her side. The boomerang returned to Jade; she caught it effortlessly before fastening it to her belt, and pulled Sonya up by the neckline of her vest. She punched Sonya in the face, then made the staff shrink and held it against Sonya’s stomach. When the staff extended again, Sonya was sent tumbling backwards.

The instant she hit the ground, Sonya rolled and scrambled to her feet, shooting at Jade with her lasers. A light flashed around Jade, starting from her chest and moving outward. The laser passed right through her.

“What the- How’d she do that?” Johnny asked. “Did she… turn into a hologram?”

“There is no such thing as holograms in Outworld,” Nightwolf said. He stood from the chair he’d been reclined on since the matches started to peer down on the arena.

“An intangibility spell?” Lao asked.

“Unlikely,” Nightwolf said as Jade dashed. Using her staff to lift herself up, she kicked Sonya in the throat.

She landed, vaulted backwards, and kicked Sonya again. After backpedaling, Sonya propelled herself forward. Jumping in an arch through the air, she kicked Jade in the head. She punched the Outworlder’s stomach, kicked her leg, struck her shoulder and throat, kicked high at Jade’s head. She kicked again, but Jade dodged and swung her staff from below, hitting Sonya in the chin. At that point, the light stopped flashing around Jade’s body. Sonya raised her arm, proceeding to fire rapidly. Jade evaded the lasers, deftly springing and vaulting from side to side, until one grazed her upper arm.

She pressed her hand against the charred stretch of flesh while glaring at Sonya. Sonya smiled complacently before firing again. Red beams rained down on Jade, who moved even faster than before. Reaching Sonya, she swung her staff, but missed. Sonya punched; Jade caught her fist. Twisting around, she plunged one of her daggers into Sonya’s wrist laser.

Sonya froze in place. She stared at the apparatus, which was crackling ominously. She looked at Jade. The bodyguard’s cheeks rose ever so slightly; she gave a minuscule shrug. Sonya’s face contorted. She tore out the dagger and threw it aside.

“That was a _fucking prototype, bitch!_ ”

She punched using her other hand; Jade caught it too. She kneed Sonya twice in the stomach. Sonya hurled herself at Jade with a roar, tackling her to the ground and punching her in the face. Jade wriggled out her contracted staff and knocked it into Sonya’s head, making her fall to the side. Rolling over, Jade climbed on top of Sonya, wrapped one hand around her neck, and struck her once more with the staff. Sonya kicked Jade off her; the Outworlder tumbled back but quickly got up and threw her boomerang. Sonya dodged by sprinting towards the leaning column. She jumped up, used it to give her a boost, and flew at Jade, kicking her in the head. Sonya punched her in the temple, thrust her shoulder into her face. Jade kneed Sonya in the stomach before planting her staff on the ground and swinging herself forward to kick Sonya’s chest. Sonya kicked Jade’s leg, then tried to uppercut, but missed.

Jade swung her staff at Sonya’s head. She thrust the tip of it into Sonya’s chest, hoisted her up, and smashed her into the ground behind her. Sonya tried to stand, but received a knee in the face and a kick to the head. Jade drove the staff into Sonya’s face, then got behind her, slammed the staff between Sonya’s legs, and smashed it into her back.

Sonya crumpled to the ground, curling into herself. Jade, breathing heavily, straightened up and swept a few loose tresses out of her eyes as her staff shrunk down.

“Finish her!”

Shang Tsung’s call was close to a shriek.

Jade turned her head to look at him. She calmly – almost defiantly – marched back to the Emperor’s stage without laying another hand on Sonya, retrieving her boomerang which had landed in the sand on the way. The audience booing’s were deafening, but she appeared unperturbed as she used her staff to vault up onto the stage and retake her position behind Kitana.

Shao Kahn gave her a long stare that went unreturned. Instead he looked to his sorcerer. Shang Tsung hastily began announcing the next match.

Jax ran out to carefully pick Sonya up. Her face was bruised and swollen. She was quivering as she was brought back, her arms tightly wrapped around her mid-section.

“Are you okay?” Kang asked.

He immediately realized it was a dumb question – she obviously wasn’t. So, obviously, she told them “yes” several times while trying not to wince as Jax placed her on one of the chaise lounges.

Johnny crouched beside her. “You need us to get you something?”

“No,” she said, groaning. “No, I’m fine.”

Her wrist-laser still whirred and sometimes sparked disturbingly, but she refused to take it off yet. Kang wasn’t sure if it was because she hoped it was mendable and didn’t want to lose it, or if she planned to threaten to use it on them if they didn’t stop fussing over her, consequences be damned.

The match after Sonya’s was between Quan Chi and another poor human woman. It ended about as brutally as Quan Chi’s previous match did, with him slicing her shins with a broadsword so she fell, then decapitating her. Afterwards he took her head and paraded around the arena with it for everyone to see. The spectators loved it. So had the Emperor, apparently, because Quan Chi was invited up on his stage afterwards.

As for the next match…

“Jackson Briggs! Versus… Ermac!”

“Be right back,” Jax said as he patted Sonya’s arm. Her response was to roll her eyes and motion for him to hurry up and get out in the ring.

Kang wondered how that would be. Ermac relied a lot on his telekinesis, and Jax was probably too heavy for him to fling around like he had done with Kang. Jax’s strength was his, well, _strength_ , which meant close combat – something Ermac could work against with his levitation.

Seeing the two men opposite each other was quite humorous. Ermac’s short stature and slim build made it appear almost as if Jax was the Outworlder rather than him. Ermac seemed aware of it too; he was hovering higher above the ground than normal in order to look Jax in the eye.

“ _Fight!_ ”

Ermac disappeared in a bright green light. He emerged again behind Jax, striking the back of his head. Jax turned and began moving back. Ermac followed, both hands glowing green. He kicked Jax’s stomach, punched him in the shoulder, raised his arms and slammed his fists down on Jax’s head, hit his jaw, and punched Jax’s chest.

Ermac was about to fly backwards when Jax grabbed his neck to punch him in the face. He let go to kick him in the side, punched his head, uppercut him. Ermac raised his arms to hinder another blow as well as try to telekinetically push Jax away from him. Jax staggered back maybe three meters before he dug his heels into the sand, promptly stopping. Flying up, Ermac dove and kicked Jax’s shoulder. With a grunt, Jax seized Ermac’s leg. He proceeded to smash him into a column, cracks appearing on it. Ermac struggled to escape, but Jax didn’t let go, instead hurling him into the arena wall.

Ermac elevated one hand; Jax was hoisted off the ground and shoved backwards. He landed five meters away and was struck in the jaw when Ermac teleported next to him. Ermac kicked him twice in the torso, and once in the head. Jax thrust his elbow into Ermac’s throat, then spun and did it again to his face. He kicked his chest, punched him in the stomach, head, caught him in a headlock and threw him to the ground. Jax followed by heaving himself on top of him.

Jax held Ermac down with one elbow against his throat and was about to punch him in the face when his fist stopped in midair. Jax’s whole arm trembled as he attempted to force it down. He took a grip around Ermac’s neck, squeezing it. Ermac squirmed, but didn’t let up. Instead Jax’s fist was slowly pushed back, before his whole body was lifted off Ermac. Ermac raised one hand to keep sluggishly shoving Jax away. The other flew up to rub his throat as he coughed and gasped for air.

His head snapped up. He lowered his hand; Jax dashed at him. Ermac turned, his arm sweeping towards Jax. Something ascended from the sand and tore in Jax’s direction. The major halted, managing to dodge right before it plunged into his face.

It was Jade’s dagger. She must have forgotten about it after her and Sonya’s fight.

The dagger stopped in its course, turned around, and took off after Jax again. He threw himself out of the way; the dagger changed direction once more to bolt at him. He ran, ducked, abruptly changed his routes to shake it off. He jumped behind a column, the cracked one. The dagger shot into the stone, into one of the cracks, and got stuck. Jax grasped the handle, but he didn’t pull it out – he forced it further in. The cracks grew bigger; the column started to groan in discontent.

Ermac, who had been heading for the major, halted to watch together with the whispering spectators. He tilted his head the one side, seeming almost intrigued by Jax’s actions.

Jax let go of the handle – the cracks spread around the entire column – and began pushing it. It didn’t budge at first, but gradually it began to move. Slowly it fell over towards the closest column. The cracked column collapsed on the first, resulting in a loud crash.

Sand billowed up, covering the arena in a screen of grime. The only thing that could be heard was coughing intermingled with complaining. Soon the dust settled, revealing the resulting scene.

One column was resting in the sand while the other one had broken into more than a dozen chunks of white rock. Jax picked up one of the smaller chunks and threw it at Ermac.

The Outworlder quickly raised both his arms, making the stone veer to the side. Jax picked up another and threw it too, then a third, then a fourth. Ermac impeded each one from reaching him and dropped it to the ground. His movements had slowed down considerably since the start of the match.

One exceptionally big part zoomed in his direction; he needed to break its speed before tossing it aside. Right as he did, Jax rushed. The major punched him in the face, kicked his knee, punched his chest, kicked his stomach. Ermac dodged the next punch, kicking Jax in the chest and head. Jax took hold of Ermac’s neck and flung him to the ground. Ermac waved his hand; Jax was pushed back, a few steps more than last time. Ermac flew up, punching and kicking Jax’s head. He shot up further into the air, hovered above Jax, then smashed down on top of him, knocking him into the ground.

Ermac got up reeling, but swiftly spun around and put his arms up in a stance. Jax wriggled, began shoving himself up, but fell into the sand.

Behind Kang, Sonya cursed.

Johnny shook his head.

“Well. Guess that’s a wra-”

“ _Ermac!_ ”

Shao Kahn had risen from his throne and walked to the edge of the stage. With his head inclined and his brows lowered, he stared up at his combatant, eyes blackened like coals.

“ _Finish him!_ ”

Ermac looked at Jax, then raised his hands. Jax’s upper body was lifted off the ground so he sat on his knees. His arms were brought up and stretched out from his body. He began to shake, convulse, all of him. His eyes flew open; his mouth gaped.

Ermac clenched his fists, and Jax screamed as his arms were ripped from his torso.

Kang raced out onto the arena, the others quick to follow. He could see Sonya shambling forth from the corner of his eye.

“Jax! _Jax!_ ”

Jax’s body thumped into the sand, blood gushing out. Sonya crouched by his head and aimed her lasers towards the stumps that were left. Two sets of beams shot out, then she tore the apparatus off with a shout and chucked it to the sand, where it promptly short circuited.

The bleeding mostly stopped; she had managed to burn the vessels shut.

“Jax! Can you hear me? _Look at me!_ ”

Sonya slapped his cheeks; the hysteria wasn’t far away from entering her voice. Jax’s head lolled to the side, his eyes rolling back into his skull.

“He needs proper medical attention!” Raiden squatted next to Sonya, laying a hand on both her and Jax’s shoulders. “I will take him and Sonya there; you will stay and keep this farce going,” he said, looking at the others. “I’ll be back soon.”

Lightning struck around them as Raiden teleported them away. In next to no time they were gone – all that was left was the puddles of Jax’s blood in the sand.

Kang’s legs felt weak; he stumbled. Lao put a hand on his back and began to lead him back to their compartment. Kang’s heart thundered in his ears, but far away he could hear something else. Applause, and guffawing. A raspy voice that snickered and praised the wonderful show before talking about the next… something… The next match.

Kang looked behind them, up at the cages with the hostages.

Vera was holding Jin tightly against her chest, her face buried in his hair. The boy had his arms around her neck, gently patting her head. She pressed him harder to her, and quivered as she cried.

* * *

The flames materialized around Kang, towering around him. His core pulsated; his internal self tingled with anticipation. He pictured where he wanted to go.

Two meters ahead, next to where Lao was standing, to his right.

For a moment, Kang didn’t need to breathe. The fire caressed his body – he became one with it.

For one single moment, it felt like he was in two places at once.

And then it stopped.

The fire died down. He could see Lao, two meters in front him, with a disappointed expression. Kang groaned as he kicked a small pebble lying by his feet.

“It looked like you were close to doing it,” Lao said.

“I’ve been close to doing it for three hours!”

“If you want to try one more time, I think-”

“No,” Kang said.

He sunk down to the dirt, sitting cross-legged with his face propped up by his fists. Lao crouched by him to ruffle his hair.

“It’s alright,” he said. “We should be going back to the Coliseum about now, anyway.”

Kang nodded and heaved himself up.

“But you have gotten closer with each try,” Lao said as they made their way back. The small alley they practiced in was mere minutes away from the arena. “When all this is over, we’ll find Master Bo’Rai Cho so he can give some proper advice.”

Kang nodded once more, although he wondered what Raiden would think of him still not mastering the technique. The Thunder God returned shortly after he and Sonya left with Jax, exactly as he’d said.

“ _Jax is receiving emergency care,_ ” was the first thing he said. “ _Sonya is still with him._ ”

He asked if anything happened while he was gone, which wasn’t much. One match had taken place, which they lost. Judging by the merciless end, Kitana’s deal appeared to have been broken. Kang supposed they were lucky it remained for a whole day.

His match ended up being about as much of a challenge as he expected, though. The woman had been incredibly strong, but also clumsy and quite inept. She was probably better suited on a battlefield.

They entered the arena through one of the smaller gates and began climbing the first of three sets of stairs they needed take to reach their compartment on the arena’s east side. The last three rounds would begin in about fifteen minutes; the finale against Shao Kahn would occur in the evening. That is to say, if Earth made it that far.

“I just realized something,” Lao said. “We’re the only humans left!”

“Oh… Yeah, you’re right!”

Kang honestly hadn’t given the day’s roster much thought. So much had happened. So many were either hurt or dead. He couldn’t wait until it was all over.

Lao snickered as he slung an arm around Kang’s shoulders.

“You better watch out now, or I might steal your Champion title!”

Be my guest, Kang wanted to say, but didn’t. He only smiled and shrugged.

It was sparse inside the compartment. More than half of the competitors were either dead or being treated for their injuries elsewhere.

“Hey! How’d it go?” Johnny asked.

Kang made a face as he shook his head. He looked over at Raiden, who was standing by the balcony railing and watching the “entertainment” between rounds. Today it was a group of slovenly men and women attempting to escape a large, horned beast which hunched when it walked. None of them stood a chance.

Kang walked up to the god, who said nothing.

“Is this how Outworlder’s regularly amuse themselves?” Kang asked.

“Yes. That thing is called a ‘Tormentor’. They are used in battles…” Raiden paused as the Tormentor caught and swallowed one of the men. “…and in performance acts.”

Kang would have laughed at the absurdity, if he didn’t think he risked puking when opening his mouth. To have an entire realm, several cultures, built on nothing but violence and brutality. Kang had never before encountered something so trapped in the past. He didn’t even want to know what Outworld’s actual history was. Had it been more inhumane, or had it been somewhat civilized? Both possibilities were disheartening in their own way.

He saw something.

In one of the smaller gates in the arena’s inner wall, on the edge of where the light no longer reached and the shadows took over, something moved. Kang squinted, leaned slightly over the railing. He recognized it.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” he said before hurrying down the stairs.

“Don’t disappear anywhere now,” Raiden called after him. “You will be fighting soon again.”

“I know; I won’t!”

After he got down all three sets of stairs he made a brisk turn and jogged a quarter round the arena, from the east side to the south. He wasn’t sure why. The only reason he could think of was curiosity, and perhaps a slight worry of what would happen next.

He was panting when he arrived at the gate. Slowly he crept up to the man who stood leaning against the wall, his arms crossed and his eyes glued to the carnage in the arena.

“Are you stalking me, kiddo?” the gray Lin Kuei asked.

Kang frowned at him.

“My _name_ is Liu Kang,” he said.

The Lin Kuei chuckled. “Very well, Liu Kang. My question still stands.”

“No. I was…” Kang trailed off as he went to stand next to the assassin. He motioned to the arena. “You found Shang Tsung.”

“Yes.”

“Are… Are you going to confront him now?”

The Lin Kuei shook his head.

“Not me.”

“Who are you anyway?”

The last prisoner had been eaten. Ordinary guards, Tarkata, and a Centaurian came out and threw chains around the Tormentor to drag it away.

Shang Tsung stood up, making himself ready to resume his hosting duties. Kang ought to return to the others soon.

“Call me Smoke.”

“Why are you here? For Shang Tsung, or for…”

Smoke inclined his head towards the arena.

“Wait and you’ll see.”

Kang turned his head, looking the same way Smoke did. The Tormentor was gone. Shang Tsung was waiting for the clamor to settle. From another gate on the north side, someone emerged.

Cowl and mask, pale and rather tall, dressed in blue.

Kang’s jaw dropped.

“Is that-”

“No.”

No, of course not – he was dead. Kang saw it himself, but…

He remembered Cyrax looking solemn as he weighed the belt buckle in his hand. “ _He has a brother,_ ” he had said, “ _A younger brother_ ”.

The pieces fell together and the picture became obvious. It wasn’t Shang Tsung the assassins were after.

Sub-Zero’s brother walked out to the arena, stopping right in front of the stage. Shang Tsung was visibly shocked by his arrival, but collected himself quickly. He pointed at two guards, about to order them to remove the intruder, when the Lin Kuei fell to his knees.

“Emperor! Shao Kahn! I am here to ask a simple favor. My brother participated in your tournament, and was killed by the wraith Scorpion. I am here to challenge him, to exact vengeance.” He raised his head and looked the Emperor in the eyes. “I beg of you to let me face my brother’s killer.”

Shao Kahn watched him unresponsively, sitting slouched on his throne and tapping two fingers against the armrest. Shang Tsung leaned down and started whispering in his ear.

Kang gawked at the scene with plates for eyes. “What is he- He’s going to get himself killed!”

“No, he won’t,” Smoke said.

Shao Kahn raised his eyebrows. Shang Tsung gestured towards Quan Chi, who nodded with an expression of vicious satisfaction.

Shao Kahn looked back to Sub-Zero’s brother with a smile.

“You shall.”

Quan Chi snapped his fingers. A second later a great fire blazed in front of the stage, and the wraith stepped out of his portal.

Scorpion looked up at Quan Chi with annoyance. Sub-Zero’s brother jumped to his feet, at once assuming a fighting stance. Scorpion’s head twisted to him; he instantly went stiff.

He staggered backwards, spluttering.

“ _You!_ ” He looked the Lin Kuei up and down, then slowly, slightly, relaxed. “You are not Sub-Zero,” he said.

“I am now,” the Lin Kuei said. “He was my brother; I fight for his honor.”

Scorpion snarled.

“He had no _honor!_ He was a vile, pathetic _worm!_ ”

The Lin Kuei – the new Sub-Zero – made a blast of ice shoot from his hands. It melted in the flames when Scorpion teleported. He surfaced behind Sub-Zero, punched him in the face, kicked his chest, jump kicked his chin. He pulled out his kunai, but Sub-Zero seized his wrist, freezing so he dropped the weapon. Sub-Zero punched Scorpion, stabbed an icicle into his shoulder, and head-butted him; Scorpion stumbled. Sub-Zero punched him in the stomach and face, kicked his chest, uppercut. He thrust his palms against the wraith’s torso – ice started spreading over it.

With a roar, Scorpion reached for his swords and slashed from above. Sub-Zero jumped back, letting a statue of ice take his place. Scorpion’s swords cleaved through it like it was air. He slashed at Sub-Zero, who ducked and punched Scorpion in the throat. He kicked the wraith’s chest twice, then grabbed him with hands that glowed white with ice. The Lin Kuei rotated, got behind him, and kicked him in the back so he tumbled forth whilst dropping his swords.

Scorpion fell, then rolled. Getting back on his feet, he threw the kunai. Sub-Zero avoided it by sliding forward on a trail of ice. He launched a cluster of frozen shards at the wraith. Scorpion teleported, retrieved his swords, and teleported again to Sub-Zero’s side. He punched twice, in the face and chest, then sliced across Sub-Zero’s torso with his swords. He vaulted backwards, kicking the Lin Kuei, and threw his kunai as he landed. Sub-Zero shot more ice before summoning a thick wall from the sand. The kunai got stuck, resulting in it and a great length of the chain getting coated in frost. Emerging from behind the wall, Sub-Zero struck the chain, causing it to break.

Growling, Scorpion hauled back what was left of the chain to use it as a whip. Avoiding the lash, Sub-Zero slid towards Scorpion. He kicked the wraith’s leg, punched his throat, created a thin ice sword, and slashed at his shoulder. Scorpion drew his own swords, slit Sub-Zero’s ice sword in half, and swept his blades across the Lin Kuei’s abdomen. He released the swords, punched Sub-Zero twice in the gut, once in the jaw, struck his neck and shoulder, finishing with a spin kick to the head.

Sub-Zero punched Scorpion, clutching him by the shoulders so ice formed there, followed by a kick to the wraith’s torso. Scorpion dashed at Sub-Zero, forcing him to the ground with a scissor takedown. He got on top of the Lin Kuei and began to strike his face, fists engulfed in flames. Sub-Zero caught one of Scorpion’s fists in a frozen hand, kneed him in the groin, and formed an icicle with the other, which he plunged into Scorpion’s eye. The wraith screamed. Sub-Zero kicked him off, scrambling to his feet.

Sagging down, Scorpion pulled out the icicle with a gurgling sound. It landed on the sand and melted into a slurry of water, ember, and blood. He turned to Sub-Zero; a blast of ice hit him in the gut. Two more hit his feet, immobilizing him. Sub-Zero rushed, struck the wraith in the face, in the chest, kicked him in the stomach. Quickly breaking free, Scorpion kicked Sub-Zero in the abdomen, the shin, punched his chest, jumped and brought his boot down on his head, then uppercut. Lastly, he thrust his hands at Sub-Zero, setting him ablaze.

Engulfed in fire, Sub-Zero stumbled backwards. He fell screaming to the ground, where he proceeded to writhe around in the sand.

Kang didn’t know if he could stand to watch; seeing one man burn to death was enough for a lifetime. By his side, Smoke’s breath hitched. He shifted positions, his muscles tensing up.

The flames turned into vapor. Slowly, Sub-Zero stood up, shaking and breathing heavily. There were small, white crystals of ice on his skin.

Scorpion took a stance. Sub-Zero slid forward on his ice-trail. Scorpion drew his sword, but Sub-Zero dodged and punched his head. He created another sword of ice and sliced Scorpion’s arm. He spun, kicked the wraith’s torso, kicked his head, punched his face, slashed with the sword again. He kicked Scorpion’s temple, then drove a large sphere of ice against his head. He stabbed Scorpion with a sword –much bigger than the previous one – through the back. The tip emerged red and thawed in the wraith’s front.

Scorpion fell to his knees, wheezing. Sub-Zero turned him around, taking hold of his neck. He stared into the wraith’s blank eyes. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he heaved his breaths. Ice flowed from his hands over to Scorpion’s neck and throat, beginning to cover the wraith’s face and traveling down to his upper body.

On the stage, Shang Tsung suddenly walked forth, his fingers flexing.

“What is he…” Kang said.

Smoke straightened up. He took a step further out from the shadows they were in.

Shang Tsung was just about to jump down, right behind Sub-Zero, when a glaring light encased the arena.

Kang shielded his eyes. He heard cries of confusion.

And then, the distinct clanking sound of metal.


	9. Swan Song

**Chapter 9 - Swan Song, or**

**All The Precious Things We Leave Behind**

 

Kang’s first thought was that Scorpion had somehow managed to set the whole arena aflame. The second was that a bomb or a grenade had gone off. After a few seconds of seeing nothing but small colorful dots blinking before him, Kang’s eyes recovered from the brightness and he saw that it was neither.

It was the effect of a mass teleportation: about a dozen robots of various sizes had surrounded Sub-Zero.

Sub-Zero raised his arms to shoot ice at two of them. They were knocked back a step, but that neither stopped nor slowed them down. One got up behind him, striking him in the back of the head. It thrust its palms to his back, electricity sizzling around its hands. Sub-Zero screamed as the currents flowed through his body. Two more robots joined in, while the others were on their way over to huddle around him. None of them took any notice of Scorpion, who weakly dragged himself into a sitting position before teleporting.

“What are they-”

“Sorry, kiddo – that’s my cue.”

Smoke vanished from Kang’s side like he had done that morning, reappearing behind the robot that caught Sub-Zero. Grabbing it around the waist, Smoke lifted and slammed it into the ground headfirst. Sub-Zero got back to his feet. He kicked away one robot, froze another to the ground. Smoke punched a robot that approached Sub-Zero, then kicked its midsection and head. Sub-Zero pinned one robot’s arms to its back, freezing the metals together. Smoke kicked and shoved one robot so it crashed into two others.

Smoke extended his arm to his companion. Sub-Zero stared at the spot where Scorpion had teleported from for a moment before taking Smoke’s hand. They vanished in a dark gray cloud. An intense flare soon followed, as the robots teleported to chase after them.

A buzzing murmuring began among the audience as they curiously asked themselves what happened. Kang, who at least possessed some insight to whom and why, also didn’t know the exact answer.

On the Emperor’s stage, Shang Tsung hoisted his arms up in the air and began speaking of how great and exciting it was to commence the final part of the final tournament of Earthrealm etc. etc. like no robots just showed up in front of him, or nothing out of the ordinary had happened. In the background, it looked like Shao Kahn was berating Jade for something. He dismissed her. She went to the rear of the stage where, similarly to Earthrealm’s compartment, Outworld’s chosen fighters were being kept.

That reminded Kang. He turned around and walked back to the Coliseum’s eastern side. It was time to return to the others.

* * *

“ _Jade_.”

The Emperor was scowling at her – she could tell even before she moved from her place by Kitana’s side to face him. He was having trouble keeping the heat out of his hard-edged voice.

“How is it that Earthrealm warriors _brazenly_ appear before me when one of my most _efficient_ assassins was sent to intercept them?!”

Jade didn’t reply. Doing so would improve nothing.

“Be gone! I want you out of my sight!”

“Yes, Emperor.”

After bowing her head, Jade walked out of the Emperor’s cabin, into the innermost space reserved for the competitors. The first thing she got to see after she parted the drapes and stepped inside was Baraka’s ugly grin.

He jerked his head to the arena. “Hey, Jade. Weren’t those the men you were sent to apprehend?”

She pulled down the mask from her face as she walked past Sheeva, who was polishing her axe, and Ermac, who was floating as close as he could to the ceiling without bumping into it whilst reading. When passing Baraka, she brought forth her staff and whacked it over his head. His response was to snicker. She ignored him, walking up to a small window that faced the arena. Shang Tsung was still droning on about the glory of Outworld and the tournament, with no mention of the interruption. He had always been talented at acting as if certain incidents never took place. She crossed her arms, staff held in her axilla.

Sheeva looked up from her weapon.

“You were beaten?”

“No,” Jade said, and it was true. She defeated him. She was mere _seconds_ away from incapacitating and bringing him before the Emperor. “He escaped.”

Baraka snorted.

“The Living Forest beat her…”

Jade’s staff extended from beneath her arm and hit the Tarkatan in the diaphragm. He doubled over with a grunt. Delight was just about to boil over in his tiny eyes.

“Itching for a fight, are you?”

“Not now. But when all of this is over, I shall gladly kill you.”

“Hah! Not after I’ve eviscerated you!” He drew his blade and pointed one at her.

At that moment, Goro walked inside. His parents, King Gorbak and Queen Mai, were among the more important spectators, and thus had an entire luxury section to themselves. Although he rarely saw them nowadays, Goro declined to join them due to his injury. His deep red cape covered the fractured arm, but he still refused to be seen until it healed.

He raised a brow at Baraka.

“Making shallow threats yet again, Baraka?”

Baraka snickered some more, whetting his blades together.

“There’s nothing shallow about anything I do…” he said, but still sheathed the blades right afterwards. He sat down next to Reptile, who was silently moping on a frail-looking sofa; the seat bent beneath their combined weight. Reptile briefly pulled out of his state of mind to mutter something grouchily. He jumped up to perch on top of the weapon’s shelf to continue brooding. Baraka sneered at him.

“Lighten up, will you?”

Reptile sent him a glare. He made a low hissing sound between clenched teeth.

“Leave me alone!”

“Yeah? Well, I’m fed up with your sulking! You’ve been like this all day!”

Reptile didn’t answer. He peeked at Jade. She felt the guilt-ridden stare bore into her head, but didn’t bestow him a look in return. Reptile nestled up on the shelf, turning around so he faced the wall.

“What do you think the Kahn will do with the princess?” he asked.

Baraka opened his mouth, and closed it again. He looked aside whilst scratching his neck. Jade’s fingernails dug into her flesh. The Kahn would do nothing, not to the princesses. She had been tasked with protecting them, against anyone. She would die before that promise was broken.

Sheeva let her axe down on the floor with a thud.

“She will be reprimanded,” she said, picking up her spaulders. “But to what degree, depends on whether we win or not.”

Reptile hunched over with a muted whimper. He buried his face in his hands and scraped his claws against his head.

Goro stepped into the middle of the room. He perused them all with an intensive gaze, before fixing it on Sheeva.

“Defeat is not an option. Sheeva, you must take heed with the Champion.”

She shrugged. “I think there will be no problem.”

“He is formidable.”

“So you claim.” She motioned to his broken limb. “Nevertheless, that arm is useless now. You should cut it off.”

Jade swallowed a weary sigh. Shokan and their warped principles. She turned around and, as expected, saw Goro observing his arm as if he were contemplating to amputate it on the spot.

“The Emperor will not be pleased if you were to mutilate yourself,” she said.

Goro narrowed his eyes while he clasped a hand around his wrist. He nodded.

“The Shokan need an abled prince,” he said. “Primarily, the Champion needs to be crushed.”

“Which he shall,” Sheeva said.

“Do not become overconfident, Sheeva. This Earthrealmer fought me, and lived to see the next day.”

Outside, Shang Tsung finally reached the point in his speech where he announced the next match ( _“Kung Lao! Versus… Kintaro!”_ ). Inside, Sheeva smiled as she stood up, weighing her battle-axe in her hands.

“Yes, but you forget, my young prince, that so have I.”

* * *

“Well. _That_ was random,” Johnny said as Kang entered the Earthrealm compartment again. “Did you see it?”

“I saw it.”

“Where were you, anyway?”

“Um, you know, down, around…” Kang made some vague hand gestures towards the floor and the arena. “But I did see it!”

He didn’t feel comfortable telling the others about Smoke, or Cyrax for that matter. It was partly because, if he did, they’d ask questions he didn’t have the answer for, but also because he thought Raiden and Lao would be upset with him for associating with assassins. They had more important things to worry about than his increasing tendencies of putting himself in danger to quench his curiosity.

“It’s a bit weird, though,” Johnny said. “You don’t think an assassin would have a family. They’re supposed to be badass loners without consciences and no one to rely on except their weapon of choice.”

He made a few dramatic movements where he lay sprawled out on the sofa. Nightwolf looked at him from across the room.

“Like in your movies, you mean,” he said dryly.

“You know, I’ve never actually played an assassin. They don’t make very good heroes. But it would be interesting! You think I could pull it off?”

He continued chattering; Kang listened with only half an ear. Johnny had moved on to another of his films – Iron Claw – where he _fought_ an assassin, when Kang left him and Nightwolf alone. The latter wore an expression that asked why he’d entered the conversation to begin with.

Kang walked over to Raiden and Lao, who were standing by the balcony railing.

“It’s up to you two now,” Raiden said. “I hope you are ready.”

“We are,” Lao said.

“Good.” Raiden looked at them, his face filled with grave lines. “You must know, that I don’t speak solely on the behalf of Earthrealm.”

Shang Tsung’s prattling finally came to an end. He called out Lao’s name.

Lao smiled at Raiden.

“We know,” he said before he jumped down to the arena.

He was facing the fire breathing Shokan with the striped skin. Raiden had said he belonged to a lower class of Shokan, which was why he looked different from Goro. If you could say that 2.5-meters-tall, four-armed monsters could look different from each other, that is.

“ _Fight!_ ”

Opening his mouth, Kintaro spewed out a long trail of fire. Lao jumped out of the way and threw his hat. It cut a deep red gash in Kintaro’s arm, making the Shokan roar. Lao teleported behind him, punched his head, kicked his arms, caught his hat and slashed Kintaro’s back. The Shokan twisted, swiping after Lao’s body with his claws. Lao sidestepped, vaulting away when Kintaro smashed his fist into the sand. Lao cut his shoulder whilst hopping over his arms. Kintaro leapt after Lao, punched, missed, and roared in anger. He swept with his hand; it smacked into the back of Lao’s neck, and he stumbled. Kintaro punched his head and face, brought his upper fists onto the top of Lao’s head, kicked his legs, punched his jaw, struck Lao’s legs so he tripped.

Kintaro raised his fist to punch Lao into the ground. Lao teleported, reemerged ten meters away, and threw his hat. It grazed the Shokan’s side. With a growl, Kintaro sprung into the air, stomping down and nearly crushing Lao as he landed. Lao scrambled away, but Kintaro still struck him in the back. He tumbled forward, only stopping when he knocked into the arena wall. The Shokan walked up to him with a long stream of fire bursting from his mouth at the ground where Lao lay. Rolling aside, he got to his feet at the last moment. He teleported again, this time to the Shokan’s side. He slashed his hat across Kintaro’s torso, then jumped up to dive-kick him in the face.

Before he could land on his own, Kintaro snatched hold of his ankle. He hoisted Lao into the air, about to slam him into the sand, when Lao grabbed his hat and cut Kintaro’s arm. The Shokan let go with a howl. Lao jumped to his feet, rapidly punched Kintaro’s torso, kicked him in the knee, the stomach, the chin. He kicked again, but Kintaro blocked. He seized Lao’s waist with his lower arms, then punched him with his upper set. After flinging Lao to the ground, he breathed more fire. Teleporting away, Lao tossed his hat again. Kintaro wrapped all four arms around one of the still standing columns, hoisted it up, and whacked into the ground where Lao stood.

Lao sped to the side to avoid it, catching his hat as he ran. Lifting the entire column, Kintaro threw it. Lao skidded to a halt before flinging himself to the ground. The columns flew over him and crashed into the arena wall. Teleporting, Lao emerged right beneath Kintaro. He jumped up to uppercut the Shokan. He kicked the monster’s shin, punched his knee, jump kicked him in the chest. Kintaro retaliated by striking Lao’s chest with his lower arms. He then grabbed Lao’s face with his upper arms, picked him up, and punched Lao in the stomach before chucking him to the ground.

Lao got to his feet, but wobbled. Kintaro breathed more fire with another roar. Dashing at the Shokan, Lao threw himself to the ground and rolled forward under the fire-trail. When he was back on his feet, he tossed his hat to the ground. Spinning at a high speed, it rolled towards Kintaro’s legs, cutting his shins. Lao leapt, punched the Shokan’s stomach several times, grasped the hat, and slashed it across his torso. He jumped up to kick Kintaro’s head, then swiveled around and climbed onto his back. He wrapped his arm around the beast’s neck, and pulled tightly. Kintaro whirled around with a snarl, trying to tear Lao off but unable to reach him. He bashed himself into the columns and stonewall to crush Lao against it. Lao screamed, but didn’t let go, instead pressing harder against the Shokan’s throat.

Finally, Kintaro sunk to his knees whilst gasping for air. Releasing his grip, Lao vaulted over Kintaro. He kicked the Shokan’s face, slashed his hat across his torso, and landed one last kick to the head. Kintaro emitted a weak growl, after which he collapsed in the sand.

Shang Tsung wasn’t even attempting to have the Earthrealmers kill their opponents anymore. He simply waved for the guards to drag Kintaro away with an annoyed expression.

Kang jumped down from the balcony, trading places with Lao. His cousin patted his shoulder and whispered a quick “ _Good luck_ ” before making his way back to the compartment. Kang imagined he would need it, because he would fight yet another Shokan: the female one called Sheeva.

She was a little smaller than Goro (as if that meant anything), yet still towered over every other person present. She was dressed in a similar way: in a loincloth held up by a leather belt and light but sturdy-looking armor. Her eyes were black and her dark hair was styled in a mohawk, small horns lining it, with a long tail in the neck. Something she had that Goro didn’t was a weapon: a huge battle-axe suspended on her back. She hadn’t used in a previous match, but now she drew it.

Kang supposed he should feel flattered that she thought this match called for it.

“ _Fight!_ ”

Sheeva swung the axe. Kang dodged by vaulting back, then threw a fireball. Bringing the axe in front of her face, she used the blade to block the fire. She leapt, almost hitting Kang as she landed, then chopped the axe down. He moved to the side and around her, throwing a fireball that singed her shoulder. She rotated, stamping down. The ground shook, just like when Goro did it. Kang stumbled and fell. She loomed over him, raised the axe and drove the wooden pole down, aiming for his chest. He rolled out of the way right as the pole struck the ground. Sheeva reached after him. He dodged and kicked her shin, punched her mid-section, kicked her knee.

She punched, hitting him in the face. She struck his stomach, kicked him in the chest and face. As she swung her axe, he ducked beneath it, upon which she grabbed his head, lifted him above her, and slammed him into the ground. His body shook when he crashed down, the air rushing out of his lungs.

His entire fight with the former Shokan champion flashed before his eyes. With a gasp, he scurried away from her. He couldn’t let her catch him like that again, or give her the chance to slap him about like Goro had done. He didn’t have several hours to recover this time.

He threw a myriad of small fireballs at her. Sheeva blocked two and avoided one, but she was still burnt on the legs, one lower arm, and on the side of her torso. He threw another at her face that she blocked. He sprinted at her, jumped up and kicked her in the thorax so many times he lost count. As she staggered back, he punched her in the stomach, struck her jaw. Kicking him away, she thrust the tip of the ax handle into his stomach. He doubled over, pressing a hand to his mouth to help swallow back what little he had eaten that morning. She swung the axe again, but he dodged and grasped the wood, hoisting himself up to balance on the handle. Springing off it, he kicked her in the face, then vaulted back to the ground.

He was ready to run when she seized his leg. She was about to hurl him into the sand, when he twisted, grabbed her arm with a fire-covered hand, and threw a flaming sphere at her face with the other. She dropped him with a scream. He tumbled away before scrambling up. She followed as he dashed away from her. She was faster than the males of her species, catching up almost instantly. After sweeping her hand at his legs to trip him, she kicked him away as he hit the ground. She brought the axe down and nearly split him in half. When he tried to rise, she kicked him in the chest and backhanded him. Next, she kicked his legs and stomach, and swung her axe yet again. He ducked, threw himself to the ground, rolled, got up, and ran towards the arena wall. She leapt after him, tramping so forcefully she sent vibrations through the ground, making him nearly lose his balance. She swung her weapon; the dull side of the blade hit his temple. For a moment, his sight abandoned him. Everything spun as he sagged down on all four. She kicked him again, in the stomach. He flew, tumbled, and banged into a rock. Looking up, he saw it was one of Jax’s column pieces. Coming at him, she chopped down. He scampered away, causing the axe to get lodged in the stone instead. She pulled it out with a yell.

He threw another fireball, which she blocked with her axe. Reaching the wall, he jumped and used the stone to propel himself at her. He flew through the air to kick her in the face. Upon landing, he kicked her shin, punched her knee, elbowed her stomach, punched her chest, her throat. He grasped her shoulder and climbed her gigantic frame. Getting onto her back, he punched her in the head. She stretched one arm to pull him away, but he clung to her. Setting his hands ablaze, he pressed them to her face. She screamed and trashed about, some of her hair catching fire as well. Letting go, Kang jumped down and kicked her in the back so she stumbled forward. Sinking to her knees, she dug her hands into the sand to throw it at her face, before dunking her whole head into the dirt.

When the fire had been put out, she shoved herself up and slowly turned around. Kang put some more distance between them whilst assuming a shaky fighting stance, although he doubted he needed to. Sheeva stayed on her knees and needed to hold onto her axe for support. There were burn marks on her neck, jaw, and on the right side of her face. A patch on her cheek wasn’t just burned – it was _charred_ , black and yellow spots, with what was possibly a hint of bone underneath it. Kang forced himself to stare at her eyes.

“You are formidable…” she said, her voice low and croaky. “I… am beaten.”

She lowered her head. Without thinking, Kang bowed back at her. When the guards came to help her she refused, then practically dragged herself back to the entrance for the Outworlders’ compartment. Kang returned to his own gate, meeting Lao on the way. He heard Shang Tsung from the other side of the arena.

“It is with much _excitement_ … we now enter the last part of the tournament!”

Lao gave Kang a searching look. “Are you alright? You look pretty tired.”

“Well, she packed quite a punch.” Kang rolled his shoulders with a grimace. There was a spot between his shoulder blades that especially ached.

Smiling, Lao wrapped his arms around Kang’s neck and gave him a quick hug.

“You heard the windbag – we’ll be done here soon. And then we won’t have to fight ever again.”

“Mm.”

Kang nodded, a small sigh escaping his lips.

“Kung Lao! Versus… Quan Chi!”

The audience exploded at the Netherrealm sorcerer’s name. It seemed he’d really endeared himself to them.

“See you in a bit,” Lao said as he began making his way to the sand pit.

“Good luck,” Kang called after him, before hurrying up the stairs so he wouldn’t miss any part of the match. He reached the balcony and the others just as Shang Tsung commanded Lao and Quan Chi to begin.

“ _Fight!_ ”

Lao tossed his hat at Quan Chi, who dodged. Lao caught the hat by teleporting behind the sorcerer. He aimed a punch, but Quan Chi blocked and caught his fist. He kicked Lao’s shin, hit him in the stomach. Breaking free, Lao chopped his hands at Quan Chi’s head and throat. He gripped his hat as it soared over them and slashed the sorcerer’s torso. It was Quan Chi’s turn to teleport. Appearing behind Lao, he punched his neck, swiveled to kick his stomach, jumped back while kicking his chin. He summoned a green, glowing skull which he smashed into Lao’s chest.

Lao began to spin so quickly he resembled a small tornado, and knocked into Quan Chi. The sorcerer reeled; Lao grabbed him by the neck and spun some more, then threw him to the ground. He was about to throw his hat when Quan Chi twisted onto his back and clenched his fist. A circle of bright light flared up from the ground. A few rays hit Lao, who jumped back as if burned. Quan Chi teleported right next to Lao, punched him in the face, the shoulder, kicked his torso. Lao swiveled to punch Quan Chi in the face, chest, head, gut, then teleported and tossed his hat. Quan Chi teleported as well, reappearing in seven different places.

_Another illusion!_

Lao whirled around with his arms raised, prepared to either strike or block while trying to determine which of the sorcerers was the right one. One of them summoned a skull in his hand, and ran at Lao. He punched its face – it dissolved. Another closed in on him – he slashed his hat across its stomach and the same thing happened. Two more began to move. He took his hat and threw it. It went through both. A fifth came up behind him. Gyrating, he punched it in the chest – it connected!

The real Quan Chi summoned another skull that he bashed over Lao’s head, knocking him to the ground. He conjured up something else – his broadswords – and stabbed downwards. Lao rolled out of the way, causing the swords to plunge into the sand. Lao punched Quan Chi’s face, kicked his knee, then grabbed one of the sorcerer’s legs and lifted it, kicking the other so the pale man fell. Lao dashed to pick up his hat which had landed in the sand and slashed Quan Chi’s legs with it. The sorcerer kicked Lao’s knee as he scrambled off the ground. Lao jumped up to kick Quan Chi’s head. The sorcerer summoned another skull whilst he stumbled back. He threw the skull, which Lao cleaved through with his hat.

Quan Chi created another light circle on the ground. Lao leapt over it, rolled his hat at Quan Chi, and teleported. The hat grazed Quan Chi’s calf; he kicked it away. Lao appeared in front of him, grabbed his shoulder, and somersaulted over his head. Lao pulled the sorcerer with him as he landed again, heaving him to the ground. Quan Chi barely got to his feet before Lao punched his face and kicked him in the stomach. He struck the sorcerer’s chest, grabbed his hat from the ground, and slashed Quan Chi’s shoulder with it. The Netherrealmer staggered. Lao chopped his hand to his throat; Quan Chi doubled over slightly. Lao chopped at his neck, punched his head, kicked his knee. Lastly, he took his hat and stabbed it into Quan Chi’s chest, then ripped it out.

Lao inhaled heavily as he watched the sorcerer wobble around. Blood trickled down Quan Chi’s torso, staining his white skin. Quan Chi stared at Lao with wide eyes, his teeth bared in a horrible grin.

He lunged, bringing his fists down on Lao’s head from above, and punched Lao’s throat. Lao chopped his hand at the sorcerer’s neck. Quan Chi conjured up a skull which he thrust into Lao’s gut. It exploded, sending Lao flying. Quan Chi took hold of his ankle and chucked him to the ground. Lao rolled over and was about to get back on his feet when Quan Chi stuck his broadswords into Lao’s stomach.

Someone gasped. Kang thought it was Johnny, but he couldn’t be sure. There was a loud buzzing sound filling his ears. His belly turned into a hollow pit, threatening to suck him through. His knees caved, he grabbed the railing for support.

Quan Chi pulled out one sword. Lao screamed. The blood seeped from his wound, into the sand. Quan Chi raised the sword and plunged it into his throat. He twisted the blades and slashed, tearing two huge clefts open in Lao’s body.

Kang jumped.

He ran out on the arena while tripping over his own feet, and knelt by Lao’s side. He cupped his cheeks in his hands – they were so _cold_ – and turned his head to look into his eyes.

Lao didn’t look back.

Someone reached out a hand to close Lao’s eyes. Kang didn’t know why, he couldn’t see anything anyway. The same person lifted him off the ground. Kang looked up and saw Raiden carry Lao away. Lao’s blood stained the god’s white robes. Lao’s blood stained the sand. Kang dug his hands into the liquid. It was still warm. Not like Lao’s body.

Echoes in the distance. Maybe laughter, maybe crying. Maybe… someone calling his name? Liu Kang, versus… Liu…

“Liu! _Liu!_ ”

Hands turned Kang’s head. Johnny crouched beside him, clutching his shoulders, stroking his cheeks. Tears streamed down the actor’s face. He sobbed a little.

“Liu, you don’t have to do this,” he said. “You don’t have to fight, you can still pull out.”

Fight.

Kang didn’t want to fight. He wanted to go home and never fight anyone ever again.

“No, he must fight!” Nightwolf spoke loudly. “Earthrealm will be lost unless-”

“No, he doesn’t!” Johnny yelled. “You don’t, you don’t have to! We’ll figure something out, we’ll be fine!”

Pull out, not fight… But if he could choose to withdraw, why hadn’t Lao? Why did he battle and lose?

What point was it for any of this if they didn’t even win in the end?

Kang pushed himself up. Johnny held his arms, helping him to his feet.

“I’ll fight…” he mumbled.

“You don’t have to-”

“No, I’ll fight.”

He walked to his spot on the arena, whilst Johnny was dragged back to their compartment by Nightwolf.

Quan Chi held one of the broadswords in his hand. It was still dyed deep red. He pulled a gloved finger along the blade, then rubbed it against his thumb. The sword faded away, but Lao’s blood on his fingers didn’t.

Kang assumed a fighting stance. Quan Chi squinted up at him with a smile.

“Oh, are you ready now?”

Kang clenched his jaw tightly, and warmed up his hands.

The crowd cheered as Shang Tsung hollered about the glory of Outworld and how the last match was about to begin, but he was wrong. The last match was against the Emperor. This was simply the penultimate one.

Stupid sorcerer to forget something like that.

“ _Fight!_ ”

Kang threw so many fireballs that they became a stream flames. Quan Chi teleported out of the way. He punched Kang in the back of the head, in the shoulder, in the neck. He kicked his shin, struck his head from above. Gyrating, Kang punched Quan Chi in the chest, then twice in the face. He spun and thrust his palms at the sorcerer’s torso, sending him backwards. Kang vaulted forward, landing on the sorcerer and knocking him down.

Writhing on the ground, Quan Chi bashed a skull into the side of Kang’s head. He pushed Kang off before teleporting again. A ring of white-skinned men formed around Kang, smiling smugly at him. Kang pressed his hands together, shooting out another flood of fire. He swiftly rotated so it touched every copy. One of them disappeared before he reached it, and materialized on the other end of the arena, by the Emperor’s stage. Kang dashed when the light circle flared beneath his feet.

It didn’t burn, but it did hurt. Thousands of small creatures started crawling underneath his skin, scratching and biting. They crept up his nose and into his eyes, pried his mouth open and went into his throat. He gagged, feeling light-headed as the creatures stuffed his airways. He leapt out of the circle, and everything stopped. Crouching in the sand he retched, even though he knew there wasn’t – and never had been – anything inside of his body.

He saw something come at him from the corner of his eye. The green skull zoomed past his face as he jumped back. Swiveling, he shot out another stream of fire. Teleporting, Quan Chi reemerged in front of Kang to punch his throat and chest. Kang kicked the sorcerer’s shin, punched his jaw. Quan Chi kicked Kang in the stomach, struck a palm to his head, thrust his hands into Kang’s torso so he stumbled back. Quan Chi summoned a skull and bashed it down at Kang’s head. After rolling to the side, Kang got to his feet, kicked the sorcerer’s knee, punched him in the gut, uppercut. He jumped up to kick Quan Chi in the torso, forcing him backwards. Kang punched his knee, spun and kicked high, striking the side of his head.

Quan Chi teleported again, far away, and raised a glowing, clenched fist. Something moved beneath the sand, making its way up. Small, white, knobby things appeared. Kang recoiled. Hands, skeletal hands, digging upwards, followed by forearms and elbows, and then a whole skeleton bursting up. Kang backpedaled as quickly as he could, only halting because another emerged from behind. Within seconds, dozens of them came at him from every side.

Was it a trick? Yet another illusion?

One of them grasped his ankle; he was pulled down by gaunt hands. They yanked his hair, sunk their teeth into his flesh, wrapped crooked fingers around his neck. He jerked one arm loose, rupturing a brachium whilst doing it, and bombarded them with fire. They didn’t seem to feel it, didn’t retreat or make any noises, but slowly their grips loosened as they cracked and broke down. When the last one let him go, he shot towards Quan Chi.

The sorcerer threw a skull at him. Kang ducked, then kicked him in the head. Quan Chi whirled around, punched Kang in the face, and kicked his leg. Falling back a step, the sorcerer summoned a skull in his hand and thrust it toward Kang’s neck where it began to gnaw at him. Screaming, he wrenched the skull’s jaws open and threw it far away from him. Seizing him by the shoulders, Quan Chi pushed him down into the sand. He summoned his broadswords. Kang scrambled up, kicked him in the stomach, then planted the heel of his boot in Quan Chi’s temple. The sorcerer laughed as he slashed at Kang with his weapons. Kang sidestepped the blades. He stopped, putting his hands together. Quan Chi raised his swords to thrust them at him.

He wanted to be behind Quan Chi. It didn’t matter how many meters or at what angle. Behind.

The sorcerer was just about to stab him, when the flames rose around him, covering him completely. He became one with the flames. For a single moment, he was in two places at once.

Two places and no places.

The fire died down. Kang inhaled greedily, before punching the sorcerer in the back. Quan Chi stumbled forward. He looked at Kang with incredulity. Kang punched him in the face, then the stomach, his burning fists leaving black and red spots on Quan Chi’s skin. He kicked the sorcerer in the groin, uppercut, and finished by tearing a sword from his hand and forcing it into his abdomen.

Quan Chi gasped whilst sagging to the ground. The sword vanished, leaving the wound gaping and the blood flowing heavier. Kang walked closer to look down at his contorting face. The sorcerer gritted his teeth at him.

“What now? Will you kill me, _boy?_ ”

Kang scowled. He raised his foot and stomped at the sorcerer’s face. His head lolled to the side, blood spurting out of his broken nose.

Kang looked to the stage, past Shang Tsung’s astonished gaping, and met Shao Kahn’s gaze. The Emperor sat slouched on his throne, and although Kang couldn’t see his eyes behind the mask at this distance, he could feel them.

Shang Tsung twitched back to life, stammering forth his first couple of lines. Kang turned around and walked back to the Earthrealm compartment.

“ _Jesus Christ!_ ” Johnny exclaimed when he arrived upstairs. “Are you okay?”

Kang frowned at him. Johnny was staring at his neck where the skull had bitten him. He brought a hand to touch the spot, finding it was wet, uneven, and left his fingertips red.

“Oh! Yes, yes I’m fine.”

It was true – Kang didn’t feel a thing. Judging by the look on Johnny’s face, he didn’t believe him.

“There are healing spells for that,” Raiden said, sounding hoarse. “We will return to the palace, and then we-”

“Where’s Lao?”

Raiden instantly quietened. His facial expression stiffened. He crossed his arms.

“After we are done we will-”

“I want to see him now!”

“ _You need to keep your mind on the target, Liu Kang!_ ”

Kang couldn’t remember the last time he heard Raiden shout. He didn’t think the god had ever shouted at or been actually angry with him, but now he glowered down at Kang with harsh eyes. Kang tried to glare back, but it was difficult. His eyes stung and his vision blurred. His throat was contracting, making him swallow over and over again.

Raiden’s face softened. He reached out to stroke Kang’s hair, then pulled him close and held him whilst rubbing his back.

“We will return to the palace for healing and rest,” he said. “Then, when we have left this place, we will have time to grieve.”

They teleported right into Kang’s bedchamber where Raiden sent for healers and servants. Johnny, who couldn’t wait, immediately doused several towels to press against Kang’s neck. Soon servants arrived with refreshments, and the healers with ointments. Raiden assured them that all of it was safe, but Nightwolf still spent twelve minutes interrogating the healers on what was in the medicine before letting them near Kang. They used two different remedies that were spread onto the dressing before they were fastened against his skin. One was for numbing the pain – which was unnecessary because he still felt nothing – while the other sped up the restoration. By the time he would face the Emperor, Kang’s flesh and skin would have grown back anew.

After half an hour of treatment the helpers departed, and they were left to sit by themselves in silence. Someone knocked on the door. All four heads snapped up.

Kitana stood in the door opening. She had her hair pulled into a high ponytail, and her face was bare. Her posture was slightly hunched; she held her arms in front of her, hands pressed to her chest like a shield.

“Hi,” Kang rasped.

“Hello,” she said, looking to the floor.

Johnny’s head darted between them. At last, he patted Kang’s leg gently, then stood and walked out of the room. Nightwolf and Raiden followed suit, the Thunder God giving Kitana a brief nod before leaving.

She trod over to him. After hesitating for a second, she gingerly sat down next to him on the bed. She laid her hand on his, lacing their fingers together. It felt so warm compared to his own.

She opened her mouth, but closed it without saying anything.

He cleared his throat, tugging his lips upward.

“I promise to go easy on your dad.”

At first she only blinked uncomprehendingly, but then she nodded.

“That’s good,” she whispered.

Kang nodded too, sniffling some. His eyes were beginning to sting again. The hot tears rose, distorting everything. The sorrow settled like a rock in his throat and denied space for anything else.

He wanted to see Lao, so, so much. But did he really? Because it wouldn’t be Lao he’d see. What would lie there wouldn’t be him, or even his shell. It’d be nothing. There would be nothing left. Emptiness.

Lao was gone.

Not once in his entire life had Kang longed for something like this. Not for the other monks, or for Raiden, or for his parents. He wanted to _see_ Lao. But Lao was gone.

Lao was gone and would never come back. He’d never be back to spar with him, or remind him to do his chores, or tease him when he did something wrong, or ruffle his hair, or hug him whenever he needed someone to.

Lao was dead.

A single choked noise escaped him. Then the tears surged.

Kitana wrapped her arms around his neck. He leaned onto her to hide himself in her hair. His airways felt so thick; he had to struggle for breath. Between the gasps and sobs, tiny wails erupted from him. He wanted to scream, to howl out the raw grief until his voice was gone, but the air, the air wasn’t enough, not even to speak with.

Dampness hit his scalp. Kitana had begun shedding tears as well, but she didn’t say anything. She merely laid down with him on the bed, embraced him as he clung to her, and allowed him to cry.

* * *

The sky was just in the process of shifting from blue to pink; all around the Coliseum torches were lit. The audience was uncharacteristically orderly and quiet. The sand floor was still discolored in some areas.

Standing all geared up in the arena, Shao Kahn somehow seemed to be even bigger than before. He was shirtless, wearing spiked spaulders, had his mask fastened to a metal helmet, and held a great hammer that looked too heavy to lift in his hand. Kang understood why he was feared throughout the realms.

Before she left, Kitana advised him to keep as much of a distance as possibly between himself and the Kahn, and to never stop moving. And whenever the Emperor crouched down on his knees, Kang would need to move out of the way – instantly. He intended to follow her instructions to the letter.

Shao Kahn tilted his massive chin up to look at Kang from down his nose.

“So you are the champion…” he said. “The human worthy of my time.”

“Yes.”

“You expect to triumph.”

“Yes.”

“Witless boy…” Shao Kahn elevated one arm and gestured to the sky. “I am Shao the Conqueror! Victory will _never_ be yours to taste! You will die, and your realm will bow to me!”

Kang didn’t grant him a response. He changed positions to loosen up his muscles, flexed his fingers, and bent his neck from side to side so it cracked.

He was ready. The finale could begin.

“ _Fight!_ ”

Shao Kahn hurled his hammer. Kang vaulted backwards. It rocketed forth right where his head had been. His hands heated up; he shot a blast of fire at the Emperor. The Kahn stepped aside, the fire still singing part of his chest, and rushed at Kang. Kang jumped to the side, but Kahn nevertheless rammed his shoulder into Kang’s throat, knocking him back. Kahn grabbed the handle of his hammer, pulled it up and swung it at Kang’s head. Kang ducked, got close and punched Kahn’s chest, on the burnt skin, and hit his jaw. Kahn huffed as he placidly looked down at Kang.

“Do not make me laugh,” he said as he raised the hammer above his head. It crashed down with a bang, Kang barely avoiding it. He punched Kahn in the stomach, kicked his knee, then fell back and sprinted away from the Emperor.

Distance, he needed to keep his distance. But, that was easier said than done. The Outworlder wasn’t nearly as sluggish as his size would have you believe. Kang saw Kahn close in as he turned around to launch streams of fire at him. One hit his armored shoulder while another his knee and calf. A third almost reached his face, but the Kahn blocked by bringing his forearm in front of him. The Kahn swung his hammer again. Kang sidestepped, casting fire at his feet. Kahn simply thundered through the flames. Bending his knees, he knocked Kang upwards using his shoulder. Kang stumbled. Kahn bashed his fists on his head so he fell completely, and raised the hammer again to slam it onto Kang. He frantically tumbled away. After scrambling to his feet, he punched the Kahn in the stomach and chest, then uppercut.

Kahn didn’t even appear to have felt it. He released his hammer for a second to punch Kang in the stomach and jaw, then swept with the hammer at Kang’s legs so he tripped. Aiming at Kang’s head, he stomped down. Kang dodged by rolling aside, after which he ran once more. He sped around the arena whilst sending blasts of fire at the Emperor. Kahn sliced through an outstandingly big one with his hammer, before kneeling on the ground. A light came to be in his hand, molding into something thin and oblong. Halting, Kang vaulted backwards and was out of the way before the magical spear was halfway towards him.

Kahn growled, then attacked. He tried to ram his shoulder at Kang again, but missed. He hoisted up the hammer, swinging it. Kang twisted to move away, but wasn’t fast enough. The hammer hit his arm with a crack. Kang screamed as he clamped his good hand over his shoulder.

“You are nothing!” Shao Kahn yelled. The hammer’s handle thrust into Kang’s chin; the taste of blood filled his mouth. “A weak, wretched, fool! Pathetic!”

He slammed the hammer into the ground yet again. Kang dodged, punched the Kahn in the stomach, jump kicked his chest, kicked his knee, punched again in the throat, in the chin. He stepped back and propelled himself at the Emperor, kicking him in the head, then dashed as far away as he could. He stopped for a moment to consider his arm. The shoulder hung low, the arm limp and useless.

Dislocated – not broken.

He ran again, away from the approaching Emperor, and skidded in behind a column. He inhaled through clenched teeth. This was okay, it wasn’t the first time. They dislocated joints on each other all the time when they were young and inexperienced.

He grabbed his wrist and slowly pulled. His eyes watered as a whine seeped out between his lips. A loud pop was heard when the shoulder slid back into its socket, the pain steadily dissipating.

Kang sighed in sweet relief, beads of sweat trickling down his face. He opened his eyes just in time to see Shao Kahn swing his hammer towards him.

He tore away as the hammer hit the column. Pieces of white stone rained down on the spot he’d been sitting. Kahn threw the hammer again. Kang dodged, swiveled and shot out a blaze at the Emperor’s torso. His legs began to feel numb – he was slowing down. Kahn drew nearer and nearer. He swung the hammer in an arch from below; Kang dashed backwards. He swung it from the side; Kang ducked. He kicked Kang in the torso; Kang was sent soaring across the arena and into the stonewall. Light and colors flickered before him, but he got to his feet and ran again.

He turned around to throw a ball of fire – it passed the Kahn by half a meter. He tried once more, only to trip over his own feet and plummet to the ground. As he moved to shove himself up again, he laid his hand upon something that didn’t belong there. He looked down. The part that stuck up from the sand gleamed a little bit, and it was hot to the touch after having been out beneath the scorching sun all day. Kang could see his reflection on the dusty surface.

 _Jade’s dagger!_ It was _still_ there!

Kang grasped the weapon’s handle and stuck it in his belt, then advanced rather than retreated.

He kicked Kahn in the chest. Kahn punched after him, but he ducked. Instead the Kahn kicked his legs so he fell. He raised the hammer; Kang rolled away when it smashed down. Kahn grabbed his arm, kicked his head, then hoisted him up. He grinned at Kang.

“Prepare to die, _mortal!_ ”

He elevated his other hand. Kang didn’t know what he planned, and never got to find out, because before the Emperor could do anything, Kang plunged the dagger into his neck.

Kahn’s eyes bulged. He dropped Kang as he staggered backwards. Kang scurried away, readying himself. Kahn yanked the dagger out, causing the blood to gush.

He pressed a hand to the wound, pointed at Kang, and spoke whilst wheezing.

“ _Is that your best?!_ ”

_No. But this is._

Kahn picked up the hammer and threw it, but Kang ducked underneath the projectile. He rushed forth and kicked Kahn in the chest, too many times to count. He punched his knee as well as his stomach, drove his elbow into the Kahn’s gut, uppercut, and punched him in the chest, hands blazing, three times, four times, five… Kahn’s skin turned red, then black, blistering and searing.

With a yell, he launched the final blow, striking the Emperor so his hand penetrated the flesh and delved into the chest cavity.

Shao Kahn emitted a low gurgling sound. His eyes widened in shock. His hand weakly flew up towards Kang’s face, his fingers grasping with spasmodic movements. He fell backwards and landed with a crash. Kang’s hand quivered. He forced it steady with his other hand, smearing the blood and the tissue onto his palm. The whole Coliseum was dead silent.

“Citizens!”

Kitana had risen from her chair. She looked over the spectators, halting her eyes when she reached Raiden opposite her on the other end.

“Visitors,” she continued. “I, Kitana of Outworld, hereby declare Liu Kang the victor in the last Mortal Kombat in Earthrealm history. Outworld henceforth absconds its claim to Earthrealm.” She bowed her head at the Thunder God. “Congratulations.”

Cheers, applauds, and shouts of approval exploded from the cages with the hostages, which only increased when they were slowly lowered to the ground. When the doors opened they rinsed out like water from a broken bottle.

Kang staggered over to them, wading through the rejoicing people. It wasn’t over yet, not completely.

“Jin!”

The child was still holding Vera’s hand, but when he spotted Kang in the mass he let go and ran up to him. His tiny head twisted around with anticipation, searching the sea of humans. He frowned.

“Kang, where is Lao?” he asked.

At first, Kang didn’t understand what he meant. Hadn’t he seen? Did Vera shield his eyes when it happened?

He crouched by the boy, almost laying the bloodied hand on his shoulder before catching himself.

“Jin,” he said, voice so rough he had trouble making the words. “Lao isn’t here.”

Jin’s face scrunched up. He shook his head.

“No, he said he would be back! He would free us! He promised!”

Kang’s throat was pulled taut. Dampness welled in his eyes. He quickly wiped it away.

“I know,” he said. “I know he said that, but he’s not here now. He, he’s gone, Jin.”

“But he promised!”

“ _I know he promised!_ ” Kang felt ashamed to shout at a child, but he couldn’t stop himself. “I know what he said, but, but-”

“Jin.”

Their heads snapped up to Raiden. Jin’s mouth dropped open as he stared up at the god in awe. Was that how they looked when they first met Raiden, all those years ago?

“Lao is not with us anymore,” Raiden said. “He is in a better place. You will see him again, but not in many years.” He bent down to gather Jin in his arms. “Now, let us go home.”

Jin docilely clambered into Raiden’s arms. He leaned his head into the god’s chest, his small fists clamping around the edge of his robe.

A portal opened up behind them. Kang attempted to stand, but his legs had no feeling in them and refused to move. Raiden snared his free arm around his waist and pulled him up, carrying him along as he led the train of humans to the portal.

The moment they walked through it, Kang blacked out.

* * *

“It greatly saddens me to do this, specifically now that the Emperor is in such low health,” Shang Tsung said as he wandered to and fro in the throne room, before a small cluster of guards. “However, I have no choice.”

He stopped, fastening his gaze on each of the men.

“Our Princess, Kitana, is a traitor! She has deserted us for Earthrealm. It is her actions that caused our defeat. That caused the Emperor’s current condition!” He motioned to the guards, a crease between his eyes and his teeth bared in what was a smile to those who knew him. “I want you to apprehend her, and bring her to me for imprisonment until her trial. Be discreet!”

The guards bowed in acknowledgement, before turning around to walk out in a straight line.

When they were children, they often played hide and seek. Jade always hid in the ceiling, until the sisters got wise of her secret and looked there first, whereupon she needed to find another place.

Shang Tsung had never been very wise, in Jade’s opinion.

The sorcerer didn’t look at the door and the guards didn’t look up. It was easy to slink out when they left. She put a corridor between herself and them before declining to the floor, at which point she dashed away to the fourth level, knowing she must hurry.

The door to Shang Tsung’s study was locked. Shang Tsung obviously wasn’t in there, but there was a risk Ermac was. She stuck a knife into the chink, cutting through the bolt and wrenching the lock away. She shoved the door open.

The study was empty.

She closed the door as much as was possible after she stepped inside. A satchel hung on a chair; she snatched it up, before turning to Shang Tsung’s bookcase. She pulled out a book, read the title, and dropped it to the floor. She kept going, tearing down tomes until she found something useful, which she stuffed into the satchel. In the end, three books were the only ones worth her while. She opened the desk drawer. Nothing. Broke the lock on a chest standing by the wall to search it. Worthless. Did the same to its twin. Empty. Jerked out a case that was concealed in the wall. It was filled with about a dozen small glass spheres. Shimmering, colorful dust fluttered in a curling manner inside of it. She poured all of them into the satchel. On the desk was mostly nonsense, but a thick pouch overflowing with gold as well as a small silver box stood out. After sniffing the contents, she concluded it was healing salve. Pocketing the box along with the pouch, she hurried out and upwards to the fifth level, to Kitana’s bedchambers.

She ran into three guards on the way. It appeared they had split up to cover as much ground as possible. She let the satchel fall to the floor as she extended her staff, promptly smashing it into the left guard’s temple. He dropped instantly. The other two gyrated. One was about to shout; she kicked him in the mouth. The other was tripped with her staff before having it thrust it into his stomach. She kicked the guard in the chin and punched him, then finished the other one by pushing him into the wall and whacking him over the head with her staff.

Picking up the satchel, she continued to run. The three would either wake up soon, or someone else would find them and sound the alarm. They needed to be gone by then.

She burst into Kitana’s room without knocking. Kitana flinched where she sat by the vanity.

“Oh, Jade!” she said with an airy laugh, wiping her wet cheeks. “You startled me! What’s the matter?”

Jade didn’t answer. She sped over to Kitana’s wardrobe and began pulling out clothes. She stuffed them into a second bag, gathered up Kitana’s jewelry box, and seized every item of value in the room. Kitana stared at her, baffled.

“Jade…? What is…”

“We are leaving!” Jade said as she pushed a cloak into Kitana’s lap. “Put this on.”

“Leaving?” Kitana stood but didn’t don the cloak. “Where?”

“Anywhere that isn’t Outworld.”

“But I can’t leave! Father is ill! He needs me! And Outworld, it needs someone to-”

“Your aiding of Earthrealm has been discovered.” Jade tossed the bag with clothes to Kitana, who silently hung it over her shoulder. “We must leave before you are imprisoned.”

“But, it’s a misunderstanding! I never conspired against Outworld, I simply-”

“It doesn’t matter. You will be tried and found guilty.”

“Father would never-”

“Your father can do nothing!” Jade snapped. She grabbed Kitana by the shoulders and was close to shaking her. She opted to drape the cloak around her instead. “The evidence for treason exists and will be difficult to explain away. Disloyalty means the same punishment, no matter who you are. I know of many who would revel in seeing your head on a plate, Kitana.”

She dropped another bag by Kitana’s feet. The Princess’s skin had turned ashen. It shone like sick moonlight when contrasted by her dark hair. She wrapped her arms around her stomach and averted her gaze. Jade forcibly turned her head so their eyes met.

“I will not let you be executed!”

Kitana swallowed hard. She gave a jerky nod. Jade patted her hair, then turned back to the bed to pack the last few things in the third bag.

“What of Mileena?” Kitana asked. “Will we bring her?”

Jade shut the bag and straightened up with it on her back, just happening to glance out the window at the same time.

“We will-”

Her heart stopped. Her blood ceased to flow. A hand snaked around her neck, slowly crushing her windpipe.

Mileena was playing catch with one of the tame lunnes out in the garden, using one of Shang Tsung’s old sorcery manuscripts, when she was approached by four guards and two Tarkata. They spoke with her, wishing to escort her back to the palace, surely.

Jade could take them. It would be exacting, but she could take them all. But, if she did leap out the balcony and brought Mileena back up, she would have to leave Kitana alone. That was out of the question. Anyone could come in at any time. She also couldn’t bring Kitana down with her – that would be even more dangerous.

Jade’s stomach tied itself into a knot. Bile climbed up her throat, burning, biting.

Mileena and the guards disappeared into the palace, away from sight.

“We will not bring her.”

“What?!” Kitana’s expression turned horrified. “No, we must! We can’t leave her! What if something happens? What if someone tries to-”

“It won’t! She is not the one accused of treason. She will be safe here!”

It was true. Now, with Kitana gone, the Emperor would need Mileena more than ever. She would be surrounded by guards and people who cared for her. She would remain safe and protected here.

She _would_ be safe.

“She _will_ be safe!”

Kitana was about to protest again, when a bang shook the door. The princess jumped. Jade stepped in front of her.

“Your highness? Please, open the door.”

Kitana trembled, her face white. Jade motioned for her to answer.

“A, a minute, please!” she called. “I am not dressed!”

“Your highness, you need to open the door now.”

Jade slung the last bag over her shoulder. More banging on the door. Kitana took a step closer to Jade, who started digging through the satchel for one of the glass spheres. The door was starting to bend; the hinges groaned as they struggled to stay in place. Jade’s fingers bumped against something smooth and cool. Hooking arms with Kitana, she held up the sphere. There was a crash as the door was kicked open. Kitana clung to Jade. Before the guards reached them, Jade broke the glass in half. The dust swirled into the air, enveloping them.

And then they vanished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let it be known that I dislike continually resurrecting characters. It's a very cheap thing to do.


	10. Breathing With No Mask On

** Chapter 10 – Breathing With No Mask On, or  **

** A Wicked Use Of Liquid Life **

 

They arrived in the middle of nowhere. A desolate dirt road beneath a dark, star filled sky. On each side was desert and in the distance you could make out the silhouettes of small mountains. The air was cold; wafts of vapor escaped from their mouths with each breath. Kitana bound her cloak tighter around herself as she looked around this strange new world. Jade sat down on a rock by the road, letting the bags slide off her shoulders. She tried not to shiver in Kitana’s presence – there hadn’t been time to get a cloak for her.

“Where do you think we are?” Kitana asked.

‘Earthrealm’ was the concise answer, but the Princess already knew that. Where _here_ was, however, was indeterminate. Despite the Emperor’s obsession with the realm, they knew little about it, including its geography.

Jade shrugged.

“Not in Outworld.” And that was the only important part.

Kitana wandered a few paces away down the road, craning her neck to look beyond the nothingness in front of her. She turned to do the same the other way. Several times she revolved in place, aimlessly gaping in every cardinal direction, as well as upwards to the heavens twice or thrice. Minutes passed before she walked over to sit down with Jade. The rock wasn’t big enough for the both of them, so Kitana sat in Jade’s lap, her posture slumping and forehead resting against Jade’s shoulder.

“What should we do?”

Jade wrapped her arms around Kitana and began rubbing her back through the fabric of her cloak.

“I don’t know yet. I’ll come up with something.”

Kitana nodded whilst slowly exhaling. Her mannerisms were listless in a way Jade had never seen before. Even during her temperamental phase centuries ago when she was young, Kitana always found the strength to compel herself to smile, the life in her eyes permanent. Now, however, she was pallid and hollow. Soulless.

The Princess was in deep distress, and Jade was partly to blame for it. She had saved Kitana from capital punishment, whilst tearing her away from what she held dearest.

Jade could try to convince her that the Emperor, obstinate and tenacious as he was, would certainly recover, or that Mileena would be out of harm’s way, but knew there was no point. She also wasn’t confident of the truth in either statement. She did believe the Emperor would survive – probably not in the same condition as before, but survive nonetheless. And Mileena would be safe (she _would_ ), but would she be well? Jade often told herself the younger sister was the tougher of the two, but reality did not agree with her. The sisters had different strengths and weaknesses regarding all of their features; when looking at the whole picture they were equally resilient – and fragile – as the other.

Bringing a hand up to stroke Kitana’s hair, Jade dragged herself out of her self-indulgence. All of that was unimportant, for the moment. Right now, she ought to focus on their next step.

They could sleep outside this first night, then hike to the nearest civilization the next day when they were revitalized. They needed food and lodgings. The gold should be able to pay for it, but they still needed to acquire Earthrealm currency. It would most likely be done by illegal means. Jade was willing to do anything to keep them alive.

“Raiden.”

“What?”

Kitana glanced up at Jade, her brows raised inquiringly.

“Lord Raiden… Do you think he would help us?” she asked.

It was a good question. Would he?

The Thunder God was a protector, but of Earthrealm. It was Earthrealm he had pledged to defend, and which he for millennia struggled to save from Outworld’s impending grasp. Jade and Kitana posed a threat to all that, not just because they technically were of Outworld. Them simply being here could jeopardize the god’s great efforts. The fact that they had fled and were no longer affiliated with the Kahn didn’t necessarily matter. Raiden had no reason to aid them.

“Possibly. Or he would send us back.”

Kitana picked at her bracelet; it clinked from beneath her cloak. She puffed out a breath, blowing some tresses from her fringe out of her eyes.

“We only need him to put us in contact with Kang. Then we will be fine.”

Jade hummed in agreement, albeit skeptically. Kitana stood up, straightened her back, and put her hands on her hips. She looked at Jade with resoluteness in her gaze.

“That is my proposition. I think we should call for Raiden.”

Jade was about to continue the discussion, when a loud rumbling interrupted her. A flash of lightning struck the ground hardly ten meters away from them, lighting up the road. Jade leapt to her feet, pulling out both her staff and razorang. She placed herself between Kitana and the cracking lights.

Raiden stepped forth with a placid countenance as the light vanished and the darkness engulfed them once more. He bowed.

“Your highness, milady.”

Jade didn’t leave her shielding position, instead gripping her weapons a little bit tighter. Raiden smiled at her.

“I assure you, I will not lay a hand on either of you unless you give me reason to,” he said. “How can I be of service?”

Kitana put a hand on Jade’s shoulder. After another few seconds of cautious glowers, Jade stepped aside to allow her princess to speak. She did _not_ , however, put away her weapons.

“Lord Raiden.” Kitana had stopped shivering. She clasped her hands in front of her, pulled her shoulders back, and elevated her head to look the god in the eyes. “Forgive us for this sudden incursion. We are not intending to battle or cause conflict of any kind. We are in need of your assistance. My… support of Earthrealm in the tournament has been discovered and I now face judgement.”

She paused for a quick breath, glancing at and gesturing to Jade.

“Jade forewarned me and aided my escape. We chose Earthrealm as our potential sanctuary, but have minor knowledge of it. Thus, we ask for your help, if you please.”

The Thunder God nodded thoughtfully as he listened to her plea whilst stroking his chin. When she was done, he took a moment to reflect on her words. He chuckled.

“Well,” he said. “I imagine sending you back will result in execution for the both of you. That would be unfortunate. I will help you.”

Kitana, who had awaited his response with a tense stance, instantly relaxed. She let out a short, gasping laughter.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you! We will never be able to recompense this kindness!”

Raiden smiled; Jade found there to be something calculating about it. Kitana either didn’t notice, or didn’t mind.

“I am sure you will – in one way or another, probably inadvertently,” he said as he picked up their baggage from the ground, then put a hand on each of their shoulders. “Now, let us find you a place to stay and someone to watch over you. I have the perfect person in mind!”

* * *

Sonya was _not_ having a good day.

First and foremost, there were all those hours at the hospital, in the ER. If Sonya hadn’t realized things were bad before, she sure did when seeing the looks on the nurses’ faces. Jax was brought into surgery while Sonya paced in the corridor, waiting for news as he was stabilized. His arms disintegrated right as they were… _removed_ , and wouldn’t be able to be reattached. One less thing for the surgeons to think about, and yet another to plague Jax later in life.

Sonya did her best to keep those kinds of thoughts far away from her. Limbs didn’t matter – life did. Jax was strong and dynamic – he could tackle anything as long as he was given the chance to try.

That was when the staff noticed Sonya wasn’t exactly in top form either: bruised, dirty, and stressing out like a basket case. Hospital staff were much harder to intimidate than the people she usually spent time with, so she was forced to see a physician. He told her the basics – ice, rest, etc., etc. She was on her way out when he noticed she had trouble walking, and she admitted she’d been attacked in the groin area as well. He insisted she should let them check that too, coercing her into another examination. That physician had – finally, after hours upon hours – said she was all right to go and she would still be able to have children, although “ _sexual intercourse **might** not be as pleasurable as before_ ”.

She bit back at least five different replies to that, instead only nodding politely before sprinting back to the ER. When she arrived, it turned out Jax had been moved elsewhere, which lead her to search what seemed like half the fucking hospital to find him again. By the time she located him, he was unconscious, looking so weak and pitiful Sonya nearly burst into tears at the sight of him. Then it was just them, except Jax wasn’t really there at the moment, so it was just her. Sitting and staring at him as his chest slowly rose and fell, the fluids dribbling into him through the IV, alone in the silence with nothing but her own thoughts as company. Worrying about thrombosis and cardiac arrest. Worrying about the other guys and whatever could be happening to them right now. Worrying about the fate of the world, but only a little. The destruction of the world as she knew it was… immense. Exhausting. Even after all that had happened, losing sleep over it seemed unrealistic. Being concerned about the lives of a small number of people was much easier.

She remained until asked to leave late in the evening, when visitation hours were over. On her way out she met Vera. The woman was dirty, worn, and slightly panicked. You could tell she had cried, but held up very well at the hospital. They swapped stories of the day’s events, leaving Sonya with news she’d hoped for and news she hadn’t thought to dread, then argued with the receptionist to let Vera stay with Jax for the night. When that didn’t work, they stormed out and took the subway back to the Briggs’ house. There they packed a duffel bag with essentials, grabbed Jax and Vera’s IDs to confirm that they were indeed married, then drove back to the hospital to throw it in the receptionist’s face.

And now she was at home.

She’d showered, changed clothes, and cleaned up the grime that assembled by itself in the corners of the small apartment during her absence. She hadn’t eaten due to a lack of appetite, but she probably should – her thoughts were becoming muddled.

She stood in the living room with the phone cradled between her ear and her shoulder, listening to Bridgette’s chatter. The two women didn’t see each other as much as they did in high school, but they still talked over the phone from time to time, mostly about nonsense. Present time included.

Sonya sighed as she dug through the menus from different take-out restaurants nearby.

“I don’t know why you’re asking me this,” she said. “I know nothing about drapes. My mom picked out mine for me.”

“I only want your opinion on the color,” Bridgette said on the other end. “You’ve seen my new wallpapers. What fits best to it: rose or mulberry?”

“What’s the _difference_?”

“Rose is a bit warmer? I don’t know. My neighbor stuck her head inside yesterday and said that Byzantium would look ‘totally fresh in there!!!’”

“So why don’t you go with Byzantium?”

“Because I’ll fucking deep-throat a hot curling iron before I listen to what _that_ woman says.”

Sonya snorted out a laugh. Then something boomed behind her; the entire living room was bathed in light.

Whirling around, she was met by the spectacle that was three people standing on her balcony. Raiden leaned forward a bit, grinning as he waved at her. Flanking him was the Outworld Princess and that Jade-woman.

Sonya gawked at them, phone hanging precariously loose between her head and shoulder.

“Bridgette, I’ll have to call you back,” she said, hanging up before the other woman had time to answer. She dashed over to the glass windows to let the unwelcome trio in. “What the hell, Raiden?!”

“Sonya!” He held out his arms as if inviting for a hug. She crossed her arms and glared at him. “There has been a situation,” he said, gesturing to the Outworlders. “We have gained some new allies, but I don’t have housings for them at this very moment.”

“So you brought them here.”

“It’s only temporary. I would have loved to notify you, but everything’s happened quite suddenly, what with the impending execution and all.”

That perked Sonya’s ears. She looked over to the women. They stood tall and proud, but couldn’t hide the exhausted way their postures faintly drooped or the anxious tension on their faces. The princess in particular reminded Sonya of a small, abandoned animal. Behind the brave facade were eyes that looked lost and fearful. Against better reasoning, Sonya felt for her.

“Of course, this is not ideal, but I’ve recently gotten short on people,” Raiden said.

Sonya’s head snapped back to him.

“Excuse me?”

“If I could I would have made a better fit, but sometimes you just have to make do with what you have.”

The hell? What was _that_ supposed to mean? Was he insinuating she was a bad host? That she couldn’t be hospitable? That she couldn’t look after and support other people for a couple of days?

Without a word, she seized the collar of his robe, shoved the god out of her apartment, locked the balcony doors, and drew the drapes. She turned to her guests. Jade was stoic but guarded while Kitana was visibly taken aback. Sonya held up the phone.

“How do you guys feel about pizza for dinner?” she asked whilst dialing the number.

“That sounds lovely, thank you,” Kitana said.

She chose a plain pizza – just in case. Many of the dishes in the Outworldian buffet had been spicy, but rather be full on food that tasted nothing than not be able to eat because it tasted too much. They seated themselves around Sonya’s small kitchen table and ate right out of the box. It was habit for Sonya, so she didn’t realize until they’d started that maybe plates and forks would be more “proper”. However, Kitana immediately mimicked Sonya by picking up a slice, nibbling on it in a truly regal way, and Jade followed suit without issue. Kitana explained what happened during dinner, about treachery and trial, and why they decided to flee. It was Shang Tsung, Kitana maintained, who was to blame. Now that the Emperor was sick he had taken over as much as he could, blown the whistle on her when he just as easily could have hushed it up. If her father had still been well, he wouldn’t have dared. Sonya found no trouble believing that. The sorcerer was a snake, and although Shao Kahn too struck her as an awful man, a father would not kill his own daughter.

“Okay,” she said when they were done eating. “Firstly, this is a small apartment. I only have one bed and one couch, so one of you’ll have to sleep on the floor.”

“That is not a problem,” Kitana said quickly.

“Secondly, we need to get you some Earth clothes. Do you have any money with you?”

“Not from Earthrealm, but…” Kitana said.

Jade brought up one of their bags to the table, emptying it of several small purses and a jewelry box. The purses were filled with coins of pure gold, according to Kitana. After Sonya scraped one with a knife and dented it after sticking it with a fork she was inclined to trust her. The jewelry box was… impressive, to say the least.

Precious metals and glittering gems Sonya couldn’t name to save her own life. They spread them out on the table, laid them so close you couldn’t see the wood beneath, and there were still a few pieces left at the bottom of the box. Sonya scrutinized the collection, mouth drying up slightly.

“Yeah, I think we’ll be able to pawn this.”

“You mean sell it?” Kitana asked.

“Yes. Not all of it and not at once, but you’re going to need something to live off.”

Nodding, the princess looked through the pool of trinkets. She picked up a silver tiara, a pair of large blue earrings, a necklace with big purple gems, and a bracelet made out of black and white fabric and decorated with small, shiny black flowers and a silver chain. She glanced down at the bracelet she was already wearing – a delicate, colorful thing – and seemed satisfied.

“These we can’t sell,” she said. “But everything else is all right.”

Sonya’s eyebrows rose at that. This girl owned dozens of accessories, some so fine even the most loaded human could only dream of it, and she deemed five of them too important to part with.

“Right,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “Thirdly, do you have a plan?”

Biting her lip, Kitana rested her elbows on the table as Jade cleared it of ornaments. She cast her eyes down whilst she fiddled with the chain of her bracelet.

“Not exactly. These past few hours have been comprised of nothing but impulsive decisions. But… Well, we can’t possibly return to Outworld. There are no worldly possessions there we will miss-” She cut herself off with a gasp. “My fans! I forgot my fans!”

“But I did not,” Jade said calmly as she patted one of the still unopened bags.

Kitana sunk back into her seat with a relieved exhalation.

“Then, we have left nothing material of worth in Outworld. We are prepared to begin a new life here.”

Sonya tried picturing that. The Princess of Outworld, living in a two-room apartment in Brooklyn. The Princess of Outworld, working at Wall-Mart. The Princess of Outworld, hitting the dry-cleaner every Tuesday and Friday.

Swallowing a yawn, she squinted at the red blinking digits on the microwave. 00:04 already? Christ, no wonder she was feeling tired. She stood up.

“Let’s make you some beds before I faceplant the table.”

Sonya’s apartment wasn’t very big, but it did luckily have quite a few pillows and blankets lying around. They propped up two against the couch’s armrest and put Sonya’s thin duvet which she used in the summer with it. Her thick winter duvet got on the floor together with two more pillows and a blanket. The carpet beneath was furry and soft, so Jade probably wouldn’t be too uncomfortable. They didn’t say anything about the arrangement, but it was as if all three knew that the tall woman wouldn’t allow her princess to sleep on the floor. Kitana thanked so many times it almost got annoying, and then they bade each other good night.

Sonya was completely wiped out as she climbed into bed, pulling one of her thinner blankets over her. Yet it took a frustratingly long time before her mind to shut down and she actually fell asleep. She just couldn’t quit thinking about what she’d gotten herself into.

She had the “enemy” asleep in her apartment. Less than sixteen feet from her. They said they left Outworld – that they were basically exiled – but was it true? What if it was a ruse. What if it was a twisted, elaborate plan to get back into the Emperor’s good graces.

She told herself she was being paranoid. Kitana appeared to be a good person. Liu Kang held extreme faith in her, and she _had_ helped somewhat. Also, Jade did spare Sonya’s life in spite of most likely gaining the Emperor’s ire for doing so.

Moreover, Raiden trusted them. That meant that she, theoretically, should too. Probably.

She re-directed her thoughts to what Kitana said before, about being ready for a new life on Earth. They’d have to get them papers. Birth certificates, passports, ID cards. Both of them needed to claim surnames – Kitana might have to change her name completely. Jade could just blame hers on quirky parents with delusions of style. Every few years they’d have to move so that no one would notice they barely aged, _and_ get new birth certificates each time. They would only truly have each other by the time they died. What if one of them died decades before the other one? Or centuries?

Sonya held back a shudder.

No good. She was only keeping herself awake like this. She closed her eyes, rolled over onto her stomach, hugged her pillow, and began making a list for what they needed to do tomorrow. Or, today.

First to pawnshops and jewelers. Then buy clothes, toiletries, and food. Sonya was running out, and since they didn’t know how long this would last they should stack up. Bread, milk, water, lettuce, eggs, coffee, pasta, chicken, beef, tomatoes…

When she opened her eyes again, the sun was up. Her alarm clock showed 8:09 a.m., which meant she’d overslept. Damn. After getting out of her pajamas and leaving her bedroom, she found the makeshift beds in the living room empty and neatly made. Her guests were in the kitchen, both of them dressed, in the process of serving breakfast. Jade had even found the instructions to the electric kettle to make tea.

And other people thought Sonya rose early.

“Good morning!” Kitana said, pulling out a chair for Sonya. “We didn’t wish to wake you, so we helped ourselves. I hope you don’t mind.”

Ugh, how could she be so sweet and polite all the damn time? Was she as a princess obligated to be, or was it just who she was?

“It is fine, I don’t mind,” Sonya said.

“Tea?” Jade asked, holding up a mug.

“I prefer coffee in the morning.” Which hadn’t seemed to exist in Outworld. _That_ was the one thing that annoyed her whilst staying there.

“Coffee…” Jade mumbled as she looked into the cupboard.

“You use the coffeemaker for that,” Sonya said, about to stand up, but Jade waved for her to sit down again.

“You can explain how it functions without standing,” she said. Soon the smell of coffee mixed with the peppermint, toast, and melted butter. Jade put the mug in front of Sonya, then seated herself and accepted a slice of bread from Kitana.

“Sonya,” the Princess said. “Before we leave today, I want you to pick something from my jewelry box.”

Sonya raised a brow.

“That’s not necessary. I don’t use jewelry much anyway.”

“Then some gold? Or you could have money after we’ve sold it. I don’t want to leave you emptyhanded after we have taken up time and space from you.”

“I told you it’s fine! I… I like helping out.”

Kitana looked like she was about to protest, but was interrupted before she had the chance by Jade.

“Say, Sonya,” she said. “What happened to your, what did you call it, prototype?”

Sonya’s grip on her coffee mug hardened. She narrowed her eyes and ground her teeth together.

“ _Destroyed_ ,” she bit out from behind a clenched jaw. “They are working _hard_ on making a new one!”

Jade nodded contemplatively as she brought her teacup to her mouth. She peered at Sonya from beneath her brow, her lips curling upwards smugly. Sonya had to use all her power to resist pouring her coffee over the bitch.

“Perhaps I can compensate for it with some of my gold,” she said.

The evil, evil bitch.

Sonya grumbled unintelligibly as she slurped down the last of her coffee. Kitana giggled, and Jade finished her piece of toast with an amiable smile.

Clearing the kitchen after breakfast was quick work. All of them getting ready to go out and face the world… not so much.

First they had to decide how much jewelry they should bring. Carrying too much could be dangerous, not to mention look suspicious. After that (and after making sure Kitana wasn’t planning on stuffing a necklace between the sofa cushions.), it took some effort to pick out more human clothes for the two Outworlders. Kitana, who wore one of her more informal dresses, only needed to borrow a jacket from Sonya. Pretty much all of Sonya’s clothes were too big for the Princess, but at last they found one that suited her. The sleeves were still a bit too long, but that only made her look cuter in it. Jade’s single outfit was the one she arrived in, but luckily she was only slightly taller than Sonya, and fit quite nicely in one of her jeans and shirts. Lastly, Sonya had to spend some time explaining to Jade that carrying weapons on your person was illegal in Earthrealm. Jade seemed more bewildered over the fact that humans generally didn’t _need_ to defend themselves after stepping outside the front door.

But all that was nothing compared to actually walking the streets of New York together.

Jade kept her cool, but Kitana made no attempt to conceal how amazed she was by Earthrealm. She spent the majority of the time looking upwards, at the skyscrapers and the advertisements, with glee so tangible it hit you in the face. She looked exactly like a tourist. Which, in a way, she was. It was either that or pointing out stuff and asking questions. Lots and lots of questions. The first one was about the vehicles – predictably. How did they work, how were they made, how many different kinds were there? What did that sign mean? What are traffic lights? What were those things in that window? How come those people were dressed like that, whereas those other people were dressed like _that?_

Strangely enough, Sonya found herself not actually minding answering them. What she did mind, however, was the attention.

Walking in New York as one, reasonably attractive, woman was difficult. Doing it with two other nothing short of gorgeous women was fucking impossible! Catcalls, slimy invitations, men underestimating their own charm approaching them, you name it. Sonya flipped off two cars that honked at them, and one persistent guy was asked to go fuck a meat grinder, causing Kitana to ask what “fuck” meant. Sonya was about to explain, when yet another guy – extra sleazy, with some hair grease on the side – leeringly said he could show her. Jade rendered him unconscious with a single punch.

They were actually lucky the guy looked so sleazy, because otherwise the people around them might’ve cared that he was decked, and Sonya wouldn’t have been able to usher Jade and Kitana away from the scene. She asked Jade if she knew what the word meant; Jade denied, explaining there had been something uncouth in his eyes. Sonya was honestly a bit impressed – it was a pretty good punch – but nonetheless explained that attacking others like that also was illegal. Jade shook her head as she sighed, saying the humans were lucky Earthrealm won Mortal Kombat, since they wouldn’t have survived for long in Outworld.

They reached their first stop, a pawnshop, and exchanged three necklaces for a substantial sum. The next few hours they hit pawnshops, jewelers, and antique shops. It went well, except with the last one, where a seriously miserly man stood behind the counter. He was willing to offer less than half of what the previous ones had, and Sonya spent a good chunk of the morning haggling with him. She’d almost broken through when he tried one last time, and Jade joined Sonya by the counter to give the man a glare to end all glares. The combined weight of the two women was apparently too much for him, because he finally relented.

Afterwards, Jade dryly asked if that too was illegal.

“Not as long as you’re quiet while you do it,” Sonya said.

After that, it was time to go shopping. Sonya had never been fond of looking for clothes, even as a teenager, but now she needed to. Having someone more enthusiastic with her made it… not bearable, but perhaps a little bit easier. Kitana was on cloud nine during the entire trip. She grabbed everything she could get her hands on, even if it was obviously nothing she would want to buy. She was mainly fascinated by jeans. She tried several ones, looking good in many of them, but despite both Sonya and Jade telling her so, Kitana remained skeptical. In the end, she bought two slim pairs, a short jean skirt, numerous other skirts in varying lengths, as well as tons of colorful tops and blouses.

Jade seemed to have a similar opinion of clothes as Sonya did – the bulk of her garments were identical. Many black pants, along with a few shorts after Sonya warned her of the summer. No skirts, whatsoever, just basic, dark shirts and tank tops. Kitana took it upon herself to find more “fun” clothes, which Jade let her do. Sonya expected the younger woman to return with pastels and frills, but Kitana actually picked out mature and quite racy pieces, some with plunging necklines, in vivid but earthy tones.

The norm changed the instant they got to the shoe department. Kitana retained the same energy she had had since breakfast, buying three sandals, two flats, one pair of heeled shoes, and a pair of sneakers Sonya showed her. Jade’s demeanor, on the other hand, transformed. By the look on her face, the light that suddenly appeared in her eyes, you could tell this was _her_ territory. She selected more than two dozen pairs – pumps, sneakers, slingbacks, and boots. Many boots, in many different shapes and sizes, all of them with at least 2-inch heels. As if _that_ woman needed supplementary height.

When they walked away to buy bedding so they wouldn’t have to share Sonya’s for another night, Jade had eleven pairs of shoes in her shopping bags. Sonya was positive she didn’t _own_ eleven pairs now, and never had done in the past. Probably never would, either.

By the time they’d bought the bedclothes, their arms were so full they needed to return to the apartment and drop off their bags, then hurried back out to the supermarket before the afternoon rush.

“Sonya,” Kitana said as they stood in the Health & Beauty section. “What is this?” She held up a small, pink box.

“That’s an electric razor,” Sonya replied from over at the stall with shower gel.

“Razor… Do you shave with it?”

“Yes.”

“How? I mean, what do you shave?”

“Face, head, legs… It depends. That kind’s for women.”

“I see.” She carefully put the box back in its place. “Do you have one?”

“Nah, I prefer the plain ones.” Sonya glimpsed down at the Princess’s legs. “How do you keep yourselves smooth in Outworld?”

“Oh, we use hot wax,” Kitana said. Sonya held back a grimace. Once, in tenth grade, Bridgette’s mom had invited them to a spa day, which included waxing.

Never again.

“I’ll show you how to use cream and razor,” she said.

At first Kitana’s brow puckered in confusion, but the expression passed as soon as it came and she quickly nodded. One bout of puzzlement wasn’t going to deter her from asking questions – especially not in a goldmine like the supermarket. Before they reached the cashiers she’d inquired about various electrical apparatuses, beauty products, canned goods, frozen food, cooking utensils, batteries, and a handful of other things. Sonya supposed she should be thankful over how well-mannered the Princess was, and that she understood that shouting from across the store wasn’t considered acceptable behavior. If they’d been stuck in a bad comedy she surely would have hollered, complete with including Sonya’s name, what “prophylactics” were used for. It also did distract Sonya from how hungry she was becoming – lucky since her budget was already stretched thin due to having to buy for three persons rather than one.

“Ooh, what is this?” Kitana asked at the end, crouching in front of a number of vending machines. Sonya was sort of surprised she didn’t notice them when they walked into the store one hour earlier.

“Vending machines,” she said. “You put money in the slot and they dispense snacks, or drinks, or toys, among other things. This one is a gumball machine.” She put in a few coins and turned the handle three times. One orange, one green, and one purple ball were released into her hand. “This is gum, a type of candy. You don’t eat it, only chew it. When the flavor disappears, you spit it out.”

Kitana took the purple one, inspecting it meticulously.

“What happens if you eat it?”

“Well, _nothing_ really. _Some_ people say it’ll stay in your digestive system for seven years, but that’s bullshit.”

Jade shrugged as she took the green ball to pop in her mouth.

“Seven years is not such a long time,” she said and began chewing.

_Right… Forgot who I was talking to…_

“We have something similar in Outworld,” Kitana said. Her jaw was working hard to break through the outer shell. It split in half with a crack. “But we call it ‘tichi-bi’, after the tree where it’s retrieved, and it’s much bitterer than this.”

They took the subway home. Kitana was ecstatic; her head darted rapidly in every direction during the ride to take in as much as possible from it. She was without a doubt saving loads of questions for later when there were less people around. When they arrived at the apartment the sun was maybe one hour away from setting, and Sonya was exhausted. Kitana, on the other hand, was as chipper as she had been that morning, talking about how amazing Earth was and how she couldn’t wait to learn more about it.

“It is almost like a dream come true!” she said when they packed up the groceries. “When we were younger, we used to pretend that we were other people. Adventurers, or performers, or simply merchants traveling to faraway places. Anywhere where we could walk freely and no one would recognize our faces…”

She trailed off, her animated movements becoming still. A troubled frown settled on her face. She looked at Sonya with the corners of her mouth insincerely pulled upwards.

“Perhaps I should clean up the couch? So we can exchange the bedding for the new ones.”

“Sure,” Sonya said after a second’s hesitation. “Good idea.”

She looked over at Jade for a hint to this sudden change of mood, but the other woman was putting dairies into the fridge with her back firmly turned to them. Kitana was already on the way out of the kitchen. In the doorway to the living room, she started with a gasp.

“Oh!” she said, putting her hand on her heart as she let out a nervous laugh. “Hello!”

Sonya and Jade locked gazes for less than a heartbeat before dashing to the living room, Jade hauling a long dagger from her boot, fuck had she carried that _all day?_ They reached the living room. Jade stepped in front of Kitana and Sonya felt her fingers longing for a gun or a knife of her own, but fist to face was good enough if need be… and then they stopped dead in their tracks.

“I see you ladies have kept yourselves busy,” Raiden said as he flipped through the channels before selecting Discovery HD. He put the remote control on the coffee table and leaned back into the sofa. “I knew I could trust you.”

“Yeah. Nice of you to drop by,” Sonya said. A fist to the face was sounding more attractive with each passing moment.

Jade slipped the dagger back into her boot with a sullen face. Sonya quietly wondered if she had a bone to pick with the god, or if she was just vexed she didn’t heard him come, like Sonya herself was.

Raiden turned his attention back to the television, waving a hand at them.

“Now, finish with your groceries and gather your things. I have something to show you.”

They, slightly grudgingly, did as told, before assembling around him in the living room. Lightning crackled. The lights turned so bright Sonya had to close her eyes. A shiver went through her body and rushed to the pit of her stomach. Her skin prickled. After half a second it was over. When she opened her eyes again they were standing outside, in the last moments of daylight, in front of a huge cathedral.

It was old, but in good condition, with a gravel path leading to the huge entrance. The garden surrounding it was lush with red tulips and two medium-sized willows. Bordering it all was a high, black iron fence. On it hung a sign that said: _Private Property – Keep Out_.

“Kitana, if you would accept the honors,” Raiden said, gesturing to the gate. It was electric, with a keypad placed above the handle. “The code is 1 1 5 2 5.”

The inside looked as could be expected: stone-tiles, large windows, rows of pews, a tall pulpit, an enormous altar with a stone table, and pillars lining up to a round window in the back with stained glass that shifted in orange hues. On each side of the altar were two expansive staircases.

“What is on the upper floor?” Kitana asked excitedly.

Raiden pointed to the right one. “That one is purely aesthetic and leads nowhere. That one…” He pointed to the left. “Well, why don’t you find out?”

Hesitating for only a second, Kitana sped up the stairs in curiosity.

“More stairs,” she shouted when she reached the top.

Jade chuckled as she and Sonya followed her up. At the top of the staircase was a ledge where the windows went from the floor to the ceiling, along with a door. Behind it, sure enough, was another set of stairs, wooden and windier. Past those stairs was an apartment.

Sonya stopped to rub her eyes, contemplating pinching herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. An apartment above the cathedral. A couch, armchairs, and television set. A kitchen with cupboards, stove, and a dishwasher separated from the living room by half walls. A corridor to the right with four doors on each side – bedrooms, she guessed. Two more doors in the living room, one belonging to a bathroom with not only a shower accompanied by a tub, but a washing machine and a dryer too. The other hid a ladder that led to a hatchway in the ceiling.

“You have electricity and warm water,” Raiden said. “Other necessities you’ll have to obtain on your own.”

“We are going to live here?” Kitana asked.

“Yes. I can’t have Sonya house you forever.”

“Lord Raiden, I don’t know what to…” She whirled around, skipping forth to look at, behind, and below everything. “Thank you!”

Sonya’s cellphone beeped in her pocket. Bridgette, sharing an anecdote about her swine of a boss. Their texting began hours ago, with Bridgette trying to persuade Sonya to reveal what caused her to hang up so suddenly the night before. By now, however, she’d given up. Sonya wrote a quick reply, and was about to put the phone away again when she saw that it had connected to a wireless network by itself. She squinted at the screen, then at Raiden.

“You’ve got Wi-Fi for this place?”

“I upgraded the deal to include that, yes.”

Deal… with whom? And when, and _how?_ Why did Raiden decide to do this? What kind of contacts did he have to make it possible? Sonya decided it best not to ask. He was a god – it was a good enough explanation.

Raiden stretched his limbs, cracked his joints, and put his hands on his hips

“Now, if you ladies will excuse me. I have a realm to protect, catastrophes to prevent, and a spy to update,” he said before teleporting away.

Wait, _spy?_

_Not even going to ask._

Kitana was quiet the first few seconds after he left. Then she turned to Jade, speaking in a loud whisper.

“It’s so _small!_ ”

Jade nodded, and began knocking at the walls to look for hollow spaces.

‘Small’? Sonya was pretty sure her place could fit into this one without filling it up completely. “I think my apartment can fit in this one.”

Kitana slapped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide. “I didn’t mean- Your home is very nice; it’s comfortable! You can tell someone lives there. This is so barren!”

Sonya walked into the kitchen to open one of the cupboards. Empty. All of them, clean but empty.

“So we’ll have to fill it with stuff,” she said as she opened the fridge. With the exception of a couple of water bottles, nothing. She pulled out her phone. “How do you guys feel about Chinese for dinner?”

* * *

Father’s breaths were heavy. They weren’t even breaths - they were wheezes. With each inhalation, there was a tiny hissing and whistling that etched into Mileena’s ears. His body was damp with sweat, and the bandages on his chest had a blotch of red in the middle. It always began to appear some hours after the dressings were changed. Beneath his tan was a paleness she previously only associated with dying people. But Father wasn’t dying. Every healer that had come said he would recover, in due time.

Where was Kitana? Why wasn’t she there?

Mileena had to admit, if only to herself, that when she first heard that Kitana caused some kind of disturbance, she became happy. Kitana _never_ failed to live up to expectation. But now she had, while Mileena had not! It was the opening of copious of possibilities and perquisites for her!

But then it was made clear that Kitana wasn’t just in trouble; Kitana was _gone_. And Jade left with her. If Shang Tsung was to be believed, they fled the entire realm.

What could’ve warranted this? How could it be so bad that Father’s poor health wasn’t enough to keep her in Outworld? And why, _why_ , had they not told Mileena anything about it?

Father coughed wetly from the depths of his lungs. Mileena enfolded her small hands around his large one. There was a lump in her throat that she tried to swallow it down. It split into two: one remained in place, the other sunk like a rock into her stomach. She carefully kissed Father’s fingers. They were burning, like the rest of him.

A streak of light briefly entered the room as the door opened and closed. A shadow appeared by the foot of Father’s bed. Mileena did not dignify him with a greeting.

“Emperor,” Shang Tsung said. “I am here to gladden you with good news. I have found your daughter.”

Father slowly opened his eyes and lifted his head to look at the sorcerer, breathing with an open mouth. Against her will, Mileena turned to look as well.

“In Earthrealm, as I predicted. But to trace her whereabouts further, I need more precise means. I propose a blood search.”

Father’s eyes shut. He rested his head back on the pillow as he panted.

“Mileena,” he said. “Offer your blood to help find your sister.”

“Yes, Father.”

Shang Tsung drew a knife from his robe and took a step closer. Mileena instantly recoiled from him with a repulsed glare. As if she would ever allow that serpent close to her whilst wielding a sharp object! She pulled a small dagger from under her sash – Jade had made them carry one since they were children – and nicked the tip of her finger. She wiped off the dagger and herself on a handkerchief from Father’s bedside table, before throwing it on the sorcerer.

“There!” she snapped. “That should be enough!”

Shang Tsung caught it with a smile. He bowed, then left with a promise of finding and bringing Kitana home shortly. He better! Or the knife would drink _his_ blood!

Mileena wondered if she should leave as well. She had kept Father company for many hours now; maybe she was also keeping him from resting and recovering? Taking her veil off the bedside table, she began making her way out, when Father seized her wrist. His hand was clammy and unpleasantly warm.

“Mileena,” he said. She bent over, putting her ear close to his mouth. “We are vulnerable now. It is important for you to stay strong and clever. With me in this wounded state, there will be many eager to exploit you. Fill your head with lies. Harm me through you. Defend yourself from these people, Mileena.”

She held his hand, squeezing it as firmly as she dared, and wiped away a few beads of perspiration from his brow.

“Yes, Father,” she whispered.


End file.
